CHRISTMAS AT OUR HOUSE

Throughout my life Christmas has been a big deal. I don’t know of any other event that I’ve looked forward to so much each year (other than deer season during certain years but that has a chapter of its own). I suppose it has a lot to do with presents when I was younger and family times when I got older.

As usual given my failing memory it is hard to remember Christmas in my early childhood; however, certain events do stand out. My earliest recollection of Christmas was probably when I was 5 or 6 years old. I can remember vividly of getting up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. In our small house a trip to the bathroom meant passing by the living room. This afforded one a sneak peak of the Christmas tree and presents thereunder. (I doubt I really had to go. I certainly didn’t have an enlarged prostate at that age. I’m sure it was just a ploy to see if Santa had been there yet.) I recall that the lights on the tree had been left on and the glow from them bathed the room in an almost magical light. That year I was looking for a rocking horse and toy cowboy guns and holsters. I tried to gather all the intel possible from that quick glance without risking the disaster that might result from disturbing Santa or waking my parents. I know that I didn’t see a rocking horse. That would have been obvious. The guns were still in play though as they would be wrapped up in a box. I don’t remember anything else about that Christmas other than I did get the guns. (Later Christmases would bring real guns as gifts from a father that never met a weapon he didn’t like.) What an exciting time for a young child to get something so special! I really wonder about kids these days who receive so many expensive gifts from parents and other relatives. It seems they get everything they ask for and can’t decide what to play with first. For an entire year I was Roy Rogers, Wild Bill Hickock, Cheyenne Bowdie, Gene Autry, and Hopalong Cassidy all rolled into one.

Opening the presents I believe first began with a free for all with everyone going after their presents together. Later we decided Christmas would last longer if we opened presents one at a time. My parents talked us into this by saying we would be able to see what our siblings were unwrapping but the bottom line was that they knew it made the fun last longer. My dad; however, loved to devil us by saying that he had to shave before we opened presents. After shaving there might be another excuse to delay the procedure.

We always got the Lionel train set out at this time of year. Of course my brother was the big mover behind this effort. He would get new cars or locomotives for Christmas to build the layout. I remember some of his prized possessions were a transformer with dual controls, a platform that loaded logs onto a flatbed car and another that loaded milk cans into a boxcar. It’s too bad that in later years Dad either threw out or gave away these trains that he didn’t realize had become quite valuable. Later on our fascination with trains was replaced by slot cars. I remember the first set we got was pretty crude. The cars had front wheel drive and the back end would slide out wildly around the curves. Little did we know then that we would be driving such FWD cars routinely in the future.

If we got a new board game for Christmas (I can recall Monopoly, Clue, Life, Risk, Camouflage, and Scrabble) there would always be marathon games in the ensuing days. Sometimes we would also get a jigsaw puzzle that would occupy a household table for weeks. Other significant gifts that come to mind were an erector set, tinker toys, a CO2 BB pistol, football helmets, baseball gloves, hockey skates, hockey sticks, and sleds. Clothing was rarely on our wish list but we often received socks, handkerchiefs or the like from well-meaning aunts or grandmothers. We always appreciated my bachelor uncle who lived next door buying us small trucks and cars. It seemed he knew what boys really wanted for Christmas.

I remember my dad cutting down Christmas trees from our backyard. Years earlier he had planted spruce trees as a border between our yard and the Ford dealer next door, as well as along the back of the property. This Christmas tree cutting program was really more of a “thinning operation” (in forest management terms). These trees had not been trimmed to be properly shaped so they were just spruce trees brought inside and decorated. (Our cat, Kumquat, used to climb up in the Christmas tree creating quite a stir.) I can’t ever remember getting a tree anywhere else until such time as my parents went to an artificial tree. At that point they really disturbed their children by putting up a four-foot table-top silver tinsel tree in front of the living room picture window. I also recall that we had a big plastic Santa face on the front door with a light inside. Also Dad decorated the outside pine trees in the front yard with the largest size colored lights imaginable. These lights were in series as opposed to parallel so that if one light went out, the whole string went out. One year he used those same lights indoors on the Christmas tree. They generated tremendous heat and I suppose it is no wonder there were so many house fires at Christmastime in those days. In retrospect I guess our household wasn’t all that much different than the one featured in the movie “Christmas Story” (without the Bumpis hounds).

We always hoped for snow at Christmas and living in Western Pennsylvania we got it quite often. This meant you could try out any new winter gear like skates or sleds. As I got older we might get a new shotgun to take hunting that afternoon.

As with most holidays food was a big part of the celebration. We would always entertain grandparents, aunts and uncles. The Christmas meal was a big deal with lots of cooks in the kitchen. My sister even made fancy place cards to denote where everyone was to sit. I’m not sure why but one old family photo (discarded years ago) still sticks in my mind. It was taken out of the picture window of our house of my grandfather walking up the driveway past a 1958 green and white Eighty-eight Oldsmobile. There was lots of snow on the ground and you could see how the driveway had been shoveled and the snow laying in piles. On the street was Grandpa’s 1954 Chevrolet. Grandpa had on a Woolrich coat, a brown ivy league cap, and eight-buckle galoshes. He held his pipe in his teeth and carried a large wooden box under his arm. It turns out he had made the box in his basement shop (and it stayed in our family for years to come). Inside the box were mason jars full of apple butter that he and Grandma had made. I can almost see this scene made into a Courier and Ives Christmas card. In my mind it is symbolic of a simpler time in my life and in our society.

There were always special programs at church and school. I played a shepherd, a wise man, a caroler, a child (one of my easiest roles), sang in countless choirs and choruses, and played in the band or orchestra. There was always something going on and the times leading up to Christmas were busy. Music was also a big part of the celebration at home. We loved to gather around the piano to sing Christmas carols while Mother played. My brother would get out his trumpet and play “Oh Holy Night.” Dad would even get into the act on the trumpet. (He had been a bugler in the Army.) To this day that carol is one of my favorites for this very reason. While most remember the words to the first verse I always thought the third verse worthy of pondering. “Truly He taught us to love one another. His law is love and His gospel is peace. Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother, and in His name all oppression shall cease. Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we, let all within us praise His holy name.”

I recall that when I got old enough to drive, Dad would rely on me to deliver Christmas candy and nuts from his auto dealership around to all the vendors in Slippery Rock with whom he did business. It made me feel special and I enjoyed the spirit of giving, in some cases to individuals whom I didn’t think deserved a gift. But I guess that is indeed what Christmas is all about. We (all of mankind) got the greatest gift of all that we didn’t deserve when the Savior was born! I guess that’s what makes Christmas such a special time of year. Too bad the feeling can’t permeate every day.