Trail: 87 Christmases Passed

I’ll just pick and choose as I share some of the most memorable Christmases I have passed along in this life.

My age at the time is in question, but the first Christmas that I remember was of a Christmas Eve service at the old Stone Church south of Culbertson. Mom, Dad, my two older sisters Margaret and Virginia, plus baby brother Tom attended. Typical full house, and my only memory is a question. Why don’t they light the candles adorning the native evergreen tree along with handmade garlands? Years later, prudence tells me that open flames in a dried-out fir tree would be a dangerous fire hazard, but I never received an answer as a young child.

That same night, on the way back home after the church service, I was privileged to stand up front beside my mom in our Model A Ford. I spotted a pair of narrow wagon tracks in the three-inch deep snow cover on the road and became excited that it was Santa’s sleigh tracks headed for our house. My siblings nor my parents didn’t try to tell me that I was wrong in my belief. The memory of the rest of the night doesn’t exist.

Yes, at our house Santa always came after we four children had gone to sleep the night of Christmas Eve. Supper that night always included oyster soup and chili made from raw milk that we saved back from the twenty gallons that my mom sold at the local dairy each day.

The most exciting Christmas as a youth was the morning when I was maybe thirteen years old and found a brand-new Whizzer motorbike on our back porch. It was to be shared with my brother Tom. We rode it thousands of miles up until high school when my Model T and a 1939 Chevy took over.

A highlight of each Christmas season was the grade school and church youth Christmas programs. Lots of memorization, singing, and special costumes to wear. I think that the first time that I ever ate a fresh orange was from a Christmas sack following a program at the Stone Church during World War II. Fresh fruit was for soldiers.

Our son was born on 15 December and I found it special to prepare his midnight feeding and then sit in a darkened home and feed him a bottle in front of a lighted Christmas tree.

A weird one happened around the year 1968 during the Vietnam War. A KC-135 had to be delivered to Southeast Asia on Christmas Eve. For some reason, my crew was selected, and we departed Oklahoma about four days early. Our children were young, Nancy three to four years old so Grannie Annie arranged for Santa to arrive about four days early. Success – the kids acted like they believed it.

Then, across the Pacific Ocean to spend a night in Hawaii. Strange to feel warm weather and see evergreen wreaths on palm trees! Then on to Okinawa, and due to crossing the international date line, we landed on Christmas Eve early hours. There, we left our tanker, carried our luggage over to another tanker, headed back to the States, and crawled on as passengers. That Tanker was one of our Squadron’s from Clinton Sherman AFB, and after a stop at Hickam AFB, Hawaii, and a change to a Clinton Sherman crew off to Oklahoma. Again, we landed on Christmas Eve.

Back home with family, and Christmas had already happened. How do you footwork out of why Santa might stop by again, but he was out of presents this time? Our children understood, but bless them for not pressing the matter.

When do you tell your children that Santa Claus is a bit of a fiction and that their parents are the ones who bring gifts at Christmas? I remember that I was in grade school and probably classmates or friends reinforced the idea that Santa didn’t really exist. Still I wouldn’t mention such at home because I didn’t want the good stuff to stop coming. I think that it worked that way with our own children.

Grannie Annie remembered noticing that her mother was working in the sewing room making drum major clothes for a doll that she had received the year before. Sure enough on Christmas morning, Santa had dressed that doll in her new parade clothing. No sense in asking further questions. Raised as the only child in a household of adult relatives, Ann is proud to relate that she always knew what her special Christmas gift was going to be. Find, poke it, unwrap and rewrap it, and never admit that she knew what she was getting was the program. Some things never change! Part of the fun of living with her!

At around ten to thirteen Grannie Annie received a brand-new Monarch bicycle Christmas morning. Green and white and definitely a girl’s bike. Even to this date she doesn’t know how her uncle Don kept it hidden from her as she just about always found her Christmas presents before the appointed time. We had a daughter like that, too.

No matter how you and your family celebrate Christmas, it is a special time of the year. May God bless you and have a Merry Christmas.

That is the way I saw it.