When I was young, the excitement of the Christmas season usually started with a tree being brought into the house to be decorated. In rural areas the tree was often a cedar tree cut on a family’s personal property. City folks bought their trees from Christmas tree lots which sprang up around town. Lights were the first thing to be wrapped around the tree. They were followed by tinsel garland and glass ornaments. Tinsel icicles finished off the decorations. Ornaments were fragile and easily broken. Replacements were readily available at Woolworth. Some time in the 1940’s, angel hair was an option. It gave a hazy, spider web look to the tree. I felt very grown up when I was allowed to decorate the tree without assistance. I spent hours surveying my handiwork and rearranging ornaments to my satisfaction.
When Ken and I had children, they helped decorate. In the sixties, we had a silver aluminum tree. We decorated it with red ornaments and thought it was beautiful. I made red felt stockings for the children. The little fake fireplace was put up for several years. It was retired when we moved to Georgetown and had a house with a fireplace. For many years I made a cookie castle. It was quite an undertaking. The frame was poster board. The cookies were glued to it with a mixture of powdered sugar and egg white. At first, the children thought they would get to eat the cookies after Christmas. That never happened. Those cookies did not move. After several weeks, the little castle was as solid as brick. We also had decorative candles from The Candle Factory in Georgetown. They had a varied selection of candles for holidays, special events, and every day enjoyment.
The first Christmas presents I remember were dolls. One year the doll came complete with a wicker carriage which I called my “doll buggy.” I learned early to associate Christmas with presents. I probably started early telling what I wanted. I remember being reprimanded for telling my mother that if Santa didn’t bring me what I wanted, my brother or sister would get it for me. Note: My sister and brother were 18 and 13 when I entered the picture. They both indulged (read spoiled) me. Ken remembers a little metal truck that had molded headlights on the front, and the door on the driver side actually opened. These were exciting features for a little boy of that era.
As I got older, my sister began giving me books. I still have some of those books. One of the first ones was the Mother Goose book. The inscription reads 1942. I was a beginning reader and read it over and over. The inscription on the fairy tale book is 1943. My favorite was “A Child’s Garden of Verses.” I never tired of rereading the same books. I could repeat much of those books from memory. I was probably in 5th or 6th grade when I got the camera. I took pictures of anything that would stay still long enough. I took my favorite pictures and carefully put them into albums.
I have two other gifts from early years. My Dad’s only brother was not married when my brother and sister were young. He gave his niece and nephew what my sister referred to as “really nice gifts.” The little pitcher was one of the gifts he gave my sister. The little pitcher once had six glasses and was a favorite toy. Years later when my sister had outgrown it, my mother used the little glasses for water for baby chicks. I suppose that is how three of them met disaster. Those were the days when baby chicks arrived at the post office in a ventilated box. At some point my sister retrieved it and put it in her own house.
Another piece I have was also a Christmas gift. I was a toddler just beginning to talk when my sister and brother gave it to my mother. They told the story that I had a crying episode when they wrapped it, and I kept repeating, “You cover up he head.” Then I went running to my mother and told her “They cover up he head.” They said I ran to the tree, and then repeated that to everyone who would listen. I did not stop until my mother opened it on Christmas Eve.
Our children received the usual popular toys of the day. Our oldest, Kevin, liked to talk to Santa Claus. His little brother, Charles, often needed some coaxing to get on the old gentleman’s lap. Their sister, Cynthia, had her list made up well ahead of time and was anxious to tell him what she wanted. We delighted in Christmas surprises. In 2004, the children and I gave Ken a surprise that nearly caused him to have heart failure. The 1931 Model A-400 was totally unexpected. We gathered at Charles’ home. The car was hidden. Our timing was perfect. The boys disappeared. At a given signal, we lured Ken outside, and the boys drove up in the car. It has been a fun car for all of us as well as our family and friends.
When I was a child, Santa came to our house on Christmas Eve. I assume that was our custom because the family arose early to begin milking the dairy cows. Breakfast was after the milking was finished. My Dad was in the dairy barn before I got up on Christmas morning. On Christmas Eve, my brother took me for a ride to look at the Christmas lights. Santa came while we were gone.
When Ken and I had children, Santa usually came on Christmas morning. There were occasions when family gatherings necessitated having the jolly old man come on Christmas Eve. When our grandchildren came along, we began to have the family together before Christmas so that the grandchildren could be home on Christmas morning. Now that we have great-grandchildren, we still have our gift exchange early so that the little ones can be home on Christmas morning.
Not all of my Christmases have been merry. My mother died on Dec. 18, 1952. It was a time of grief. I do not remember if there was a Christmas tree in our house that year. My Dad said that mother would have wanted us to have a normal Christmas for their two young grandchildren. We had our Christmas at my brother’s house, and we enjoyed the excitement of the little ones. It was a bittersweet Christmas. On this December 18th, 64 years later, three of my parents’ grandchildren, three great-grand children, and six great-great grandchildren will be among family members as we gather for our special time together.
I learned early that the real “reason for the season” was not gifts or Santa Claus. It is the significance of the season that is our real joy.
Picture Key:
Children & Christmas fireplace; Mar Jon candles from The Candle Factory, Georgetown, TX; cookie castle; old books; my first camera; toy glass pitcher and glasses; little Dutch boy; Kevin, Charles; Cynthia; 1931 Model A-400.