Christmas Stories

There's the well known Christmas story recorded in the Book of Luke that we all know. But at Christmastime I like to think about my family and their stories.

The Christmas we lived in Minneapolis, Dick decided on Christmas Eve we should take a drive to see the Christmas lights. We all thought that a great idea, but we had a problem. Doug (7 months old) was taking a nap, and I had cooking and baking to do to get ready for our Christmas dinner.
After some discussion we arrived at a compromise. I'd stay home with Doug and they'd go on the drive, but they had to promise to tell me all about it when they returned. All agreed. Dick took John, Mary, and Bill on the drive. Doug and I stayed home.

Shortly after they left, Doug woke and I put him in his "bouncer" in the living room so he could see our Christmas tree. It was a tall one covered with lights and ornaments. I went back into the kitchen. Several times I heard him laugh out loud, but I wasn't surprised. He was a happy baby and laughed a lot.
About an hour later, Dick and the children came home. To everyone's surprise, Santa had been there. After all the boxes were opened and we were sitting about basking in all our loot, John went up to Doug. "You saw him," John said, "and you're too little to talk." Doug just smiled.




The year we lived in Atlanta, I decided to take the children to the big Sears store down town. I had just gotten my first car--a rattle-trappy affair, but we thought it was grand. The children
dressed in their Sunday clothes for this was a special occasion.

The moment we walked in the store we could feel a buzz of excitement in the air. Santa was there! And the line to greet him was l---o---n---g. No one complained, for we all knew it was a treat to actually be able to sit on the old fellow's lap and tell him exactly what you wanted for Christmas.
When it was our turn, Doug (just 2) nodded politely, but he would have nothing to do with that white-haired old guy in the red suit. However, Bill stepped right up. From under his jacket, he unhooked his holster and guns and held them out. "I'll trade," he said. "My holster for a rifle."
Santa paused, and then he roared with laughter. Bill got to keep his holster and Santa came through. A rifle with Bill's name on it showed up under the tree.


The Christmas Mary was three, I told her that in March we were going to have another baby.

She was delighted and went about telling all her friends. "When our baby is born," she said, "we'll lay him in the hay." I tried explaining that when our baby came, if it was a girl the nurse would lay her in a pretty pink basket. If it was a boy, the basket would be blue. But she could not be pursuaded.
She gathered all the Christmas ribbons, added a bunch of her own, and made a little manger in the dolly bed Boppie had made for her. Daily, Mary laid her baby in the "hay," practicing for the day when we brought our real baby home.

The Christmas John was five, he woke up about 3:00 on Christmas morning and came to my bedside. I was sound asleep for his father and I had only been in bed about an hour. (Sometimes it takes parents a while to get things ready so Santa can come.) "Can we get up?" he whispered.

"No!" I said. "It's the middle of the night. Go back to bed." He did.

Finally 6:00 arrived and John again came to me. "The houselights are on across the street," he said. "I think Santa's been here."

We all got up and sure enough, Santa had arrived. The cookies were gone. The mug was empty, and boxes and toys were stacked under the tree. Long after we'd opened our gifts, I asked John if he'd gone back to sleep. "No," he said. "I just lyed there."

He was one sleepy kid.

My last story happened when Doug was five. He and his best friend were in the back seat of the

car having a conversation. They didn't realize I could hear them. I wasn't snooping, not really, but I couldn't help overhearing.

Doug's friend said, "Do you still believe in Santa?"

Doug shook his head. "No, but my Mom does."

I fear he's right. I still do! Happy New Year!!!