Christmas memories

Merry Christmas

When I was growing up Christmas was a really big deal. We knew it was coming when Dad gave us the Sears Roebuck catalog to pick out the clothes we wanted. On Thanksgiving night our family joined thousands of others to watch the lighting of the Christmas tree atop Rich’s Department store which marked the official start of the Christmas season. I remember Dad putting me on his shoulders so I could see above the crowd. We all then knew that it was time to light our tree. Dad loved Christmas. He loved to decorate. The exterior of the house would be lit. There would be Christmas candles in every window. There was a live tree on the screened in porch with presents underneath.  Mother used to joke that when the lights came on, it might cause a brown out in the city. But we weren’t the only ones. Every house in the neighborhood had lights and a tree.

On Christmas day all the kids would be outside playing. When we were small it was cowboys and Indians with our cowboy hats, chaps and cap guns. Later we put on our new metal fly-a-way skates. I think I was the only one who could not skate backwards. I remember waking up to new bicycles. They were identical except mine had a black seat and my brother’s seat was tan. We rode all around the neighborhood. It was obviously a neighborhood plan because I think every boy got a bike that year.

I think Christmas was especially overflowing for us because of our parents. My mother grew up on a farm and said that Christmas often meant a couple of small gifts with fresh fruit and nuts. She said that she knew it was not going to be much but she and her siblings couldn’t sleep the night before being excited about what the morning would bring. They were never disappointed. Dad grew up in the city with six brothers and sisters. If anything, his Christmas was even more meager than mother’s. But they had handcrafted decorations, went out into the woods and chopped down a small pine tree and hung cards, beads and crepe paper on it. Like Mother, they were to get small gifts, maybe a new shirt, or new pants but always a couple pieces of fresh fruit and some nuts. I can just imagine the sacrifice of my grandparents to give their children a joyous Christmas.

So when we were born, both Mom and Dad had good jobs. Dad was an elementary school principal and mom taught second grade. They were not extravagant but were generous. Our gifts were everything we asked for and a bit more. What was interesting is that neither my brother nor I asked for very much. Mom used to say “Don’t you like that shirt?”, trying to get us to say yes so she could get it for us. Ironically, my children were the same way with me trying to induce them to ask for more.

On Christmas Day, the men on our street would go from house to house to spread Christmas cheer. It would start at the first house on the street where the first man would go to the second house to have a small bite to eat and a sip of an adult beverage. Then the man from the second house and the one from the first house would go to the third house and do the same. It continued from house to house with the first person being dropped off when they all reached his house on the way back. It was a rowdy bunch but full of love and good cheer. Mother would hand out her homemade scuppernong wine – even though neither of my parents drank. But we still had fruit – usually Florida oranges -and nuts Christmas Day.

As we grew older my folks never lost the Christmas spirit. There were always decorations, always a live tree and always candles in every window. Dad still loved to decorate. Mother would prepare the same Christmas dinner, turkey, ham, potato salad, sweet potato casserole, sweet potato pie, green beans, mac and cheese and sweet tea. It was always her best meal served on the best china. When the grandchildren came, I always tried to be home in Atlanta for Christmas. Sometimes my brother would be there with his family. It was always a joyous occasion.

Now my parents are gone. My children are in other states. Their children are grown and there is even a great grandson. Rarely if ever are we able to be together physically at Christmas. Yes we talk, yes we still exchange presents, yes we love each other. But what is missing is the feeling of joy and gratitude emanating from our parents and our neighbors who marveled at their blessings on their rise from humble beginnings to one where Christmas finally meant sharing without sacrifice.

Merry Christmas all.