Christmas was slowly approaching and most of us kids were battling the cold and snowy weather downtown at the Ben Franklin store. Christmas music was pumping us up to near delirium. The clinking of black buckle boots on our snowy feet added to the excitement. Buying Christmas gifts for others in the family was especially difficult because we only did it once each year. Mom coughed up the money... usually about a dollar. So many choices to make and often very rare gifts were seized. I got a great deal on an ice fishing rod for Dad and picked up some really nice plastic black gloves for Mom. I knew Mom needed them because I never once saw her wear plastic gloves. My cute sisters were crazy over hair curlers so I grabbed two for each one. Oh, the joy of giving was mixed in the ice-cold air as I stepped outside onto the very busy sidewalk. The town echoed with Christmas greetings and music coming from each store. 

My mother was an artist at beautifying the tree that Dad would always buy. It was always a surprise to my mother. The tree was probably cut in late May and shipped just in time to the local Christmas tree shyster. The tree was always bent over to one side. Dad said every tree needs a home and Mom would cry... obviously moved by my dad’s compassion towards ugly Christmas trees. 

Christmas Eve was special for us kids in that we were scrubbed clean to the point of looking like we had some kind of rash on our tender skin. Dressed up in clean pajamas and exchanging our gifts we ate fudge and cookies as we gazed upon Mom’s work of ugly tree art. Popcorn strands and tons of red metal bells and huge colorful lights were blinding... on purpose, I think. 

Off to bed at about 7:30, we all conked out by 9pm from uncontrolled shaking. The next morning we were somewhat surprised that the tree had fallen over and half the popcorn was gone. My trusty dog, Ted, decided to eat popcorn and party through the night. Ted shivered outside the front door for about an hour.

I saw that Santa had come through and gave me a used but beautiful guitar. I was speechless and grabbed it while that ugly tree was still on top of it. As I put the precious gift on my knee, I noticed the sound of something sloshing inside the Elvis-lookalike instrument. Trusty Ted had urinated in it. Trusty Ted was awarded an additional hour of cold suffering. I don’t remember what anyone else got that day mainly because of emotional trauma. My mother never mentioned her plastic black gloves... ever!

Christmas is beautiful and creates the best of memories.

Hug your kids and love your neighbor. Make sure you let the dog out before you hit the hay this Christmas Eve. God bless us all !