The other day, a good friend called me out of the blue. It was still September, and he said, “You won’t believe what I heard on the radio.” He knew I liked Christian music, so I asked, “Was it Christian music?” He thought I said Christmas music. “Yes! Christmas music!” he said. “I heard it and thought of you. I know how much you love Christmas music.” He was right.

My love for Christmas music goes all the way back to when I was a kid. Mom had one firm rule: no Christmas music until Thanksgiving dinner was over. That gave us a pretty good reason to hurry and clean up after dinner. As soon as everything was put away, out came our three Christmas records and our Christmas decorations.

Back then, you could collect Green Stamps when you shopped, fill up the books, and redeem them for prizes. Somehow our family ended up with Christmas albums from Firestone and Goodyear featuring singers like Andy Williams, Julie Andrews, and Nat King Cole. We only had three records, but we played them so much we practically wore them out.

In 1978, when I was fourteen, I bought my first Christmas album—the Carpenters’ Christmas album. It was magical. To this day, when I hear Richard Carpenter begin “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear,” something inside me says, Christmas has started.

Over the years, three Christmas records became a collection large enough that I could probably go five days without playing the same song twice. I have traditional Christmas music, unusual Christmas music, and even “Jingle Bells” performed by barking dogs. That one is more of a novelty. But the season just wouldn’t be Christmas without the Carpenters, all things Andy Williams, the Osmond Family Christmas, and Burl Ives singing the music from Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

Fortunately, my enthusiasm rubbed off on our kids. Every October, we would drive around looking at Halloween decorations—with Christmas music playing in the car. The kids graded the houses. A house covered in Halloween decorations might earn an A. One lonely pumpkin on the porch could earn a D. No decorations at all? That was probably an F. Everyone sang along to Christmas music while we judged Halloween decorations.

We were mixing Halloween and Christmas long before The Nightmare Before Christmas came along. When the movie was released years later, I suppose the rest of the world finally caught up with us.

Then there was “Mary, Did You Know?” I probably have five different versions of it, and our son Rick can’t stand the song. Naturally, one Christmas we sent him a package containing a CD with three different versions. We thought it was hilarious. I’m not sure Rick did.

When Rick was in France, we were excited to find a collection of French Christmas music and sent it to him for Christmas. On Christmas morning, he was able to call home, and that was when we discovered that Rick had sent us the exact same French Christmas collection. From opposite sides of the world, we had chosen the same Christmas music for each other. We laughed and laughed.

Christmas music is still part of our lives, and Cassie loves it almost as much as I do. In fact, today we went for a fall drive, listening to the very radio station our friend had enthusiastically recommended at the end of September. I suppose Mom would say we’re starting much too early. She made us wait until Thanksgiving dinner was cleaned up. I didn’t inherit that rule, but what I did inherit was the excitement.

After all these years, Christmas music has become more than music to me. A song can take me back to three worn-out records, a fourteen-year-old boy discovering the Carpenters, kids grading Halloween decorations from the back seat, or a Christmas morning phone call from France. Maybe October 1 is too early for Christmas music, but when a song can take you back to the people and moments you love, I don’t think there is such a thing as too early.

If you missed last week’s story, The Fundraiser, it’s about a kind couple whose simple act of generosity became a lesson I have carried with me for a lifetime.