Christmas3

And the Tree...it was covered with old ornaments from years of Christmases, as well as new ornaments from the current one. There were long strings of lights that sort of bubbled in the dark. There were wads of tinsel which we threw up into the branches when we got tired of hanging it. A brave silver star stood at the top of it. It was a rugged and majestic old Christmas tree. Under the tree were brightly wrapped and ribboned mysteries which drew us constantly until their secrets could at last be revealed.

What were these presents? The year of the Perfect Christmas I got everything I wanted. I got the transistor radio, and the pocket knife, and the pink plastic deer which had been in a display in the store and I fell in love with. I got the Flair pens and the notebooks (new notebooks with purple, green, and orange covers and unlimited possibilities). I got new flannel pajamas to snuggle into on Christmas night. And last, but possibly best...that afternoon I played a game of chess with Grandpa and beat him in three moves.

Then...The Dinner. The Dinner was served by Mom, Grandma, and the aunties. The Turkey was always golden brown except for the Christmas we cooked it upside down (but that was another year). The Mashed Potatoes (done by hand by one of us hapless kids who got snagged and bribed off by being able to lick off the potatoe masher after) were smooth and white. There were always two kinds of pickles, cranberry sauce, and Mom's Special Ambrosia Salad. The Sweet Pototoes, had brown sugar and nuts all over them. The Stuffing (baked in the turkey) was fragrant with sage and onions. The Rolls were hot and steaming, and there was butter and blackberry jam on the side. The olives...well we all remember the olives. And how many of us still stick them on our fingers, five to a side, and then eat them off slowly and disrespectfully, putting all of the table manners we were taught to shame? All of us I hope! Some grand traditions must be retained!

After dinner we did the dishes again, too full to argue. Mom and Grandma went to sleep. Grandpa went to sleep. Dad went to sleep. More than likely, any aunties and uncles visiting with us also slept. Or perhaps the adults loosened their belts or changed into more comfortable robes, and simply sat, speaking occasionally, for the entire afternoon.

Sometimes us kids took a hike. The air would smell of pine and mesquite and horse manure. Did we visit the Hanging Tree on this wind swept afternoon, where, in the light of the full moon, the shadows of the condemned were supposed to be seen, swaying: Did we climb up into the 'bathtub' tree at O'Neil Park and sit in the lightning struck crack? Did we run madly along 'Rabbit Road' shrieking like wild indians? Did we give carrots and apples to the horses at the stables? Did we yell Merry Christmas to the old timers at the General Store? All of these things happened in those winters...

Later in the evening, folks staggered out collectively for pumpkin pie, apple pie, whipped cream, sugar cookies, carefully decorated by us younger artists with multicolored frostings. And sometimes, like a hopeful promise of spring, strawberry shortcake.

And later still, we sang rounds (Grandpa loved them), and more Christmas carols. Grandpa's clear tenor and Dad's resonant bass complimented Mom's uplifting soprano and Grandma and Aunt Dora's sold alto. Peace and goodwill on earth was permeable in our living room; joy was shifting in the flames of the crackling fire, hope was blowing in the cold and invigorating winds outside.

That night, clad in my new pajamas, I looked out the window at the storm tossed night. The pines and oaks were whipping back and forth in the gusty winds which rushed through their branches, sounding like ocean waves. The stars were so radiant I had to squint to look up at them. The three stars of the Little Dipper, which were a gift from my grandmother, were lined up to salute me. The sense of expectation, of anticipation, was so palpable it could almost be touched. Finally, as Dylan Thomas so appropriately wrote, "I said my prayers to the close and holy darkness. And then I slept."

-- The End ---