Editor’s note: We asked readers and staff to share their favorite Christmas memories. Today, in the final installment, more of “My Best Christmas Story”: One sheep, many monkeys and a grinch who couldn’t steal the holiday spirit, even on Christmas Eve.

What are ewe looking at?

It was the Christmas of 1995, and my family had just moved into the inner-city of Lewiston to begin the ministry of The Jesus Party. It was our desire to host a Christmas party for the area children. We decorated the inside of our first-floor apartment with a life-size Nativity scene. We passed out invitations and even rented a real sheep named “Holly” for the occasion. To our surprise, more than 100 children showed up. The owner of Holly was concerned about the indoor temperature for the animal, so we were forced to open the windows.

We now had more than 100 freezing kids and one very comfortable sheep to entertain for the evening. The weather outside quickly became frightful, and the children needed to be brought home. The sheep’s owner and I brought the animal outside during this nor’easter, and while we were standing on the corner of Birch and Bartlett streets a police car approached us with his spotlight, rolled down his window, shook his head in amazement and said, “Never mind I won’t even ask!”

— Rev. Douglas Taylor, Lewiston

No thin ice here

I remember the winter when I was 11. The end of another school day had started Christmas vacation. I was both happy and sad. Our father had informed my siblings and me that the ice on the pond down the road was not safe to skate on. All that afternoon and evening I pestered my dad with questions of when the pond would freeze enough. When I went to bed, I prayed for the weather to get cold enough to freeze the pond solid.

The next morning after breakfast I asked our mother about skating on the pond. She was smiling when she crushed my hopes and told us we could not go.

The four of us settled for a snowball fight and rushed to dress in our winter clothes. Soon, we were out the front door. There, just to the left of the porch in the yard was an ice rink. Our father had been up all night with a garden hose making a safe place for us to skate.

That winter was the best. Not only did we not have far to go to skate, it was a quick walk back inside for mom’s homemade hot chocolate.

— Amber Gerrish, Chesterville

Decorating king

One of my favorite Christmas memories was Christmas 2005. My husband, Roger, was decorating the Christmas tree. As he was finishing, he asked me to come in the sunroom to look it at. In addition to the family tree, what I found was a small 2 1/2 foot tree decorated with all my “sister” ornaments my sister Shirley from Arizona sent me throughout the years. I was so touched. I treasure these special ornaments because I haven’t been able to spend Christmas with her for many years.

This was Roger’s last Christmas. He passed away suddenly eight months later at the young age of 51. This is our fifth Christmas without him, and this year I finally decorated a tree with help from his sister Michele. As I opened the box of decorations, the past Christmas memories flowed out. There hangs in the tree a “Grill King” ornament with Roger’s name on it.

So on Christmas morning as my kids and their families gather around the Christmas tree opening gifts, we’ll all have our own special memory of our husband, dad and pepe.

— Sandy Turcotte, Lewiston

Sock it to me

My husband and I have always tried to make Christmas nice for our four children, and we did. We didn’t have much money back then, but we did manage to have very nice Christmases. We had a big meal and lots of cookies. A lot of the gifts were made by hand, clothes for the children, mittens from Grammie, stuffed animals from Nana. Many of the toys our children received were homemade. I made sock monkeys for everyone! There were cowboy sock monkeys, girl sock monkeys, Batman sock monkeys . . . Last year, I made another Batman sock monkey for my 47-year-old son. He was thrilled!

— Mary Jane Newell, Oxford

Christmas in March

As a kid growing up with four siblings in an Arizona desert town, we always had loads of presents under the Christmas tree. That’s because Christmas was my mom’s favorite time of the year. She loved to decorate the house inside and out with lights, and she would always place blue candles on the windowsills. We also couldn’t buy a Christmas tree, but rather, mom and dad always wanted to head up north of Payson and chop or saw our “just right” tree from the woods, no matter how deep the snow.

After college, when I returned to my native Maine, mom would always manage to send presents and a card or two either before Christmas or just after it. But then about five years before she died on Aug. 1, 2008, my wife and I would celebrate our Christmas on Dec. 25, and then celebrate it again in March of the following year when Mom would send the past year’s Christmas presents and a card.

She never did say why she started doing that, so we just accepted it as another of my family’s funky holiday traditions.

— Terry Karkos, staff writer

Christmas stolen, faith restored

My story is of the Christmas that was robbed from my two little girls. I was a divorced mother and worked at a local answering service. I worked extra hours and even the 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. shift to earn extra money for Christmas that year.

I was able to get them the “E.T.” and an “Annie” doll along with a few other things. We always spend Christmas Eve at my parents after attending a family party in New Auburn. Being a single mother, obviously I didn’t have a lot of money and I had an old car. All the doors locked except the driver’s door. So I had put all their favorite gifts in the backseat along with a few gifts for other family members and kept going outside to check my car. There were also other family members in and out, so I felt confident that everything was OK. I mean, who would steal Christmas gifts on Christmas Eve?

Sure enough, when I went out to check on my car, everything was gone.

After everyone attending the party found out, there were my (family members) offering me the collection of money they had gotten together for us. But, where would I go and what would I find on Christmas Eve? The next thing I knew we were at Florian’s Market, the only store still open.

Their generosity was very appreciated, but my Christmas was ruined. Once word got out, someone from the newspaper came to interview me and the response from friends, co-workers, our clients from the answering service and even strangers was overwhelming.

Someone donated a beautifully made “Annie” doll to replace the one we lost. Many people sent cards with donations and dropped off some things for the girls. Even though it must have been 25 to 30 years ago, I still have all the cards and notes. I keep them with our Christmas things to remember that even though there are people that do bad things, there are many more who do good.

— Connie Field, Auburn