Tuesday, December 24, 2013

It's Christmas Time


One of my most memorable Christmases happened when I was 7 years old.  We were living in “the doctor’s house” (a cottage on Lake Ontario) at the time.  The house was perfect for a Shirley Temple style Christmas, with a fireplace, an upstairs so we could sit on the stairs and look through the banisters to await Santa’s arrival.  We had hung stockings on the fireplace, our simple little skinny socks.  There was a piano in the dining room where we could pretend to play Jingle Bells.  All three of us, Jeanette, John and I sat on the stairs for quite a while until finally my parents forced us to go to bed. 

Next morning we hurried downstairs and were aghast to discover the socks had been thrown on the Christmas tree and there were no presents under the tree.  Needless to say Jeanette began bawling almost immediately and only got worse when Dad came down the stairs and told us that Santa must have got angry that we had forgotten to leave cookies and milk for him.  Oh my but he had to hurry back upstairs to bring out the packages.  In all the excitement of getting presents I have forgotten what the excuse for Santa leaving them in my parents’ bedroom would have been. 

I look back and smile at that skinny little girl looking through the banisters.

Twinkle!

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