It was a cold bitter wind that blew down our dirt road. There was ice on the creek and snow flurries blowing across the yard. It was cold in our four-room shotgun shack. You could feel the air coming in through the cracks on the old plank board floor. The windows were frosted over and the candles on the window sill flickered casting shadows around the room.
The potbellied stove crackled as the oak logs burned hot providing the only warmth for the whole house. Mama had warmed bricks and placed them under our quilts to warm our feet. My sisters and I couldn’t sleep. After all, it was Christmas Eve and Daddy should be home soon. We brought our quilts out and placed them around the wood stove. Mama was fixing hot chocolate and marshmallows to warm us up. The wind was howling and the night was dark. You could hear dogs barking in the distance. We were all afraid and Mama kept looking out the window and telling us to shush. She sat down in her grandma’s rocking chair and had us pull our blankets around so she could tell us Christmas stories.
We cut a tree earlier that day and picked up pinecones in wicker baskets. It took all four of us to get the tree into the house. It was getting late and Daddy was supposed to be home before midnight. So we started decorating the tree with painted pine cones and popcorn Mama helped us string. The farm had a bad year and we all knew that it would be slim pickings this Christmas. I was only five and I still had hopes that Santa could get down that snow-covered road and remember me. To be honest all I really wanted was for Daddy to come home soon.
Daddy was in Myrtle Beach working for my Uncle Grant who was a cabinet maker. It was the only way we would have Christmas dinner tomorrow. It was getting late and we didn’t have a phone so Daddy couldn’t call home. We all were drifting off to sleep, each of us with our own dreams, our own hopes, and fears.
The farm was near the end of a long dark dirt road. Every few minutes Mama would get up and look out the window for his headlights. Around midnight we could see two very dim points of light way down the road. I could hear the tires crunching the snow on the old wooden bridge and Daddy pulling into the yard. We all rushed out to the car to get hugs and jump up into Daddy’s arms. Daddy had a big smile on his face and a kiss for Mama. My heart was a little heavy because I couldn’t see any presents in the back seat. Daddy saw the look on our faces and said “Help me get the food out of the back and let’s eat”. Maybe Santa will be along soon. After goodnight hugs and kisses, we all soon drifted off to sleep. It didn’t take long before the dreams took me away.
I was awakened early by the smell of coffee and ran out to the kitchen. Daddy was drinking a hot cup of coffee and Mama was making homemade biscuits. The smell of bacon and pancakes filled the house. We all made a beeline to the Christmas tree. There was a big burlap sack painted in greens and reds with my name on it. It was filled with wooden blocks in all shapes and colors, red, blue, green, and yellow. I poured all the blocks out on the floor and started building a fort. Daddy said they were from Santa but I knew he had made them for me. I would cherish that Christmas and the knowledge that he made something just for me. My sisters got cedar music boxes with metal hinges and little locks that he made for them. It was the best Christmas I remember having.
As I grew older I realized he was off working because we had no money yet it was a Christmas I always remembered because my Daddy came home, and even though we had no money he found a way for us to have a great Christmas.
This was such a heart warming story. I could feel the Spirit if Christmas upon me. Thanks for sharing this.
As always Larry is nice to read your stories. I am always fascinated and rarely do I feel able to comment, but they always make me think. Thanks!
Happiness is made up of simple things, even though it may not seem like that sometimes. The company of friends, a surprise, an unexpected smile, the act of a loved one: simple gestures and moments of everyday life that can hide great, very great pleasures. And even happiness.
So it is also for a gift. It is not the gift itself that counts, but the dimension of the heart that gives it.
Larry,
Your heart-memories are beautifully written as always.
They stir the emotions and it’s so easy to visualize the fragrance of the freshly cut tree and feel the warmth from the stove as you and your siblings listened to the stories your Mom told while you all waited anxiously.
Thanks for sharing your memories.
Yvonne
Beautiful, Larry. I write a bit about Christmas myself, as you know, and it really does seem that there are points of light way back in the memory bank that really define what this season means. I love reading about other people’s memories of Christmas, and I loved reading this.
This is so beautiful, Larry. I have always admired your fond memories and the details and emotions connected to them.
Your Daddy did love his family and you were raised the right way. Few Americans know what it’s like growing up with only wishes and dreams and even fewer know what it’s like to be appreciative and grateful for the love that comes from the simplest of gifts.
Larry, I love this story. Those of us old enough to remember how it used to be feel the love and character building that went on here in your words. We’re the better for it. Keep passing the Knowledge On.
Thank you Arlene. Those were the best time of my life
Thank you Don
From a long time ago…. A time before Fantastic Plastic “credit” when all had to live on what they made, not what they wanted, not what they thought they deserved. Hard times but much easier times also. Inflation is fueled by credit, eye opening.
Thank you so much Don for your comments and insight, as poor as we were those were the best times of my life.
But the credit is what happened, everyone wants to believe tomorrow will be better, and left to chance it usually is. However with the ease of credit and inflation/deflation caught many unaware… Money use to mean someting when it was realistic, if you see that point. The gap today is much to wide.