Our house didn't have a fireplace so Jolly old St Nick otherwise known as Santa couldn't come down the chimney. I remember it being a problem as we approached Christmas. Yet, Mom calmly had a solution. We will leave the door open for him! As we made our preparations on Christmas Eve, tummies full of lutefisk and potato sausage, already home from church, we needed to set out our favorite cookies for Santa with a large glass full of milk. We placed the snack on the end table near the tree so Santa could find it easily. We laid our stockings on the couch, and scurried off upstairs to bed. Mom came up to tuck us in, and encouraged us to get right to sleep so Santa could come.
It was still dark outside, but we were sure it was morning. First one awake made sure the others were up and ready. The three of us scampered excitedly downstairs to see what Santa had brought us. The ceiling height balsam sparkled with the large lights and their reflectors, glass ornaments and tinsel swaying gently in the breeze of a furnace vent. Wrapped packages were piled high under the tree. Santa's gift to us usually wasn't wrapped so we could look but not touch until Mom and Dad joined us. We knew it wouldn't be long and turned our attention to the stockings that were stuffed and laying on the couch. It was tradition that we could open our stockings without Mom and Dad so we eagerly tipped them upside down to see what Santa filled them with. In the toe was stuffed a large orange and usually larger apple. A candy cane or two, maybe some chocolate, and a couple of small trinkets that would fit. I remember one year a multicolor pen, a push puppet, and a puzzle book were in mine. Santa seemed to know what would delight us.
Mom and Dad were up by now, though it was still dark. We never looked at a clock though years later, Dad mentioned that some years he had barely gotten to bed when we eagerly awakened them. Dad would set the floodlights up, and get the movie camera ready. Finally, we could open our presents. We tore into them as vultures in a feeding frenzy while Dad captured the moments on silent movies. We dutifully showed the camera what was in each package before we tore into the next one slowing down only to check the nametags on each package. Too soon the packages were all opened, wrapping paper needed to be captured in a black garbage bag, and we could take the time to enjoy our presents. Dad put the movie camera away and packed up the floodlights until the next event. Mom set about getting breakfast together for us, daylight just breaking. Christmas Day; Mom was right, Santa came to our house even if we didn't have a fireplace or a chimney for him to come down.
No comments:
Post a Comment