Once upon a time, there was a Christmas…or two.

Christmas has been a very special time of year for me from the time I was a little girl. Somehow, it was made special to me by those who loved me. I have a picture of me at my oldest sister’s wedding. I was four years old, dressed in a lovely red and white dress. In the picture, I am holding my sister’s hand and my brother is on the other side of her husband holding his hand. It is absolutely darling. I don’t remember a lot about that day, but I know it made me feel special. (My sister has always done that for me.) Since it was a December wedding, it felt like the most magical time of year to get married.

There are many things that jar the senses and remind me of that childhood magic. Yesterday, my neighbor brought us some homemade peanut clusters. It flooded my brain with so many great memories. Peanut clusters have always been a special treat at Christmastime and this is why. SANTA CLAUS!! Every year we had a Christmas program at church where the children would perform songs and everyone would sing. We would keep singing, louder and louder so that Santa could hear us. Then we heard the jingle bells and Santa came Ho-Ho-Ho-ing into the building. I could hardly contain the excitement.  My stomach fluttered and I thought I would jump out of my skin. Santa was here and he was here just for us! We all lined up to get a chance to sit on Santa’s lap so we could tell him what we wanted for Christmas.  He then gave us not just a candy cane, but a whole bag full of candy and peanuts. We got gum drops, orange slices, hard tack, peanuts and best of all, chocolate peanut clusters. Literally, this was a brown paper lunch bag half full of candy and topped off with a real orange.  It was worth all the singing. To this day, I can’t eat a peanut cluster without having that memory come front and center. One taste and I am right back in that gymnasium with my stomach fluttering with excitement and joy. They taste soooo good.

Speaking of excitement, my brother and I used to stay up half the night talking about and waiting for Santa. We always dreamed about what he would bring us each year. We invariably had company, so all the beds in the house were taken and we were sent to the spare couch in the dining room. This wasn’t just any couch. It was the old brown fold down couch. The back could fold down so it was flat and we could sleep on it. My brother was at one end and me at the other. I’m not sure that was the greatest set up since the Christmas tree was in just the next room and we would know when Santa came, but that’s what we had to work with due to the house being full. It somehow made it even more exciting for us to be out where we could possibly get a glimpse of Santa. We chatted excitedly until three in the morning or later. We were told numerous times to get to sleep, but we just couldn’t help it. It was Christmas!

For many years, the only tree we had was an old aluminum fake Christmas tree. Looking back now, it was kind of hideous, but we didn’t care at the time. We decorated that thing for all it was worth and knew that if we did it right, Santa would come. He always did in spite of, oft times, meager finances in our household. There were times my parents didn’t have two nickels to rub together, but they always seemed to create magic at Christmas time for us.

I do remember the year I found out about the true identity of Santa. I was sneaking into my parent’s bedroom closet. You see, Dad always had mints or gum in his suit pocket and I knew exactly where they were.  I went to dig a mint out of his pocket and saw a strange suitcase in their closet that had been painted gold. (Yes, Mom painted everything gold.) It had compartments in it and I really didn’t think much about it until Christmas morning and, sadly, found out it was my gift from Santa. One compartment had an old re-furbished doll in it. The doll’s head had been shaved and a wig that my mother had sewn was sitting on her head. I recognized the wig material from a wig that we had hanging around the house. Apparently Mom used it to sew a smaller one to fit the doll. She also made some beautiful doll clothes but I was so disappointed that I didn’t really appreciate that point. (That appreciation showed up in my adult years.) I had believed until then, that Santa really did come from the North Pole, not my own home. It finally made sense that my friends always got lots of great toys from Santa, but mine were sub-par. Honestly, no regrets. My parents did the best they could with what they had and I appreciate that now.  I still remember that disappointment, though. It’s stuck in my brain as it taught me some valuable lessons regarding thrift, being kind, doing your best and bringing happiness to others.

I believe now, that the magic of Christmas is not in the gifts. It’s not what we get, but the love we give. It’s the magic of love and of family and friends getting together. It’s making memories to cherish. Memories like making candy together in the kitchen or baking rolls for Christmas dinner. It’s getting all your chores done so you can sit down at the table and play games. It’s making a big dinner and having your older brothers and sisters come home to help celebrate the day. It’s playing card games with as many people as you can fit around the dining room table, then trying not to cheat because you are so close that you can see each other’s cards. It’s playing card games like Pit, Authors, Rook and Spoons. It’s coming together and enjoying each other’s company. Those are the memories I hold dear now. Dad’s laughter. Mom getting mad if she didn’t win a game. Everyone’s hands scratched and bruised from grabbing spoons in the middle of the table. Those are some of my best memories of Christmas.

I cling to these memories that are so close to my heart. I cling to them like I would cling to a rope hanging over a 200 foot drop and can’t let go lest I tumble to my demise. These are special times that I don’t want to forget because they are a significant part of my journey. They remind me of the childhood sense of joy and wonder about the season. They are what is exciting about Christmas to me.  Honestly, with my aging brain I’m afraid I will forget them and I don’t want to. They are some of the happiest memories of my childhood.  It brings a sense of excitement and joy back to me when I look at a tree, hear a Christmas carol, watch a Christmas movie, or bite into a peanut cluster. These things are Christmas to me and I can never forget.

Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!