My parents hardworking couple always did their best to provide me and my brothers and sisters with memorable holidays.
Starting in October, Pop would shrimp from early morning to dinner time come home eat and then he go to the wood mill and work another eight or so hours to make sure that each of six boys and five girls got wonderful gifts under the handpicked tree. We hardly saw Pop, covered in sawdust and smelling somewhat of saltwater he would drag into the house about midnight only to get a shower and crawl into bed for four hours of sleep before getting up and doing it all again.
Mom was a wonder woman in her day. She be up before Pop to make him a breakfast and lunch. Then she would prepare breakfast for us kids and pack us up with school lunches. She managed to stretch money to be sure we were well feed. It wasn’t until we were older with our own children did we find out Mom hardly took the time to herself. The new pairs of pj’s and nightgowns we found under the tree were all hand sown by Mom with much love and details.
My parents emphasized love of giving and cherishing family above all else. Mom always made sure when we got home we would have a snack and do our homework while she worked on dinner. After dinner we had chores to do the boys tend to details of our small farm and the girls tending to the dishes. Soon afterwards Pop would leave for the job at the wood mill and we kids would work on handmade ornaments to decorate our towering tree.
Pop worked everyday, except Saturday night and Sunday. Perhaps to catch up on sleep. But each Sunday he as with the rest of his large brood attend church. At noon we would have a meal and welcome any guests that dropped in. Which was often considering the community was close as family. Sundays were spent with talk, laughter and if weather provided horseshoes. Or any other viable games kids could come up with. By nightfall we were in house and bathing in one of the three bathrooms Pop had built.
My fondest memory is one week before Christmas day. Not only was it so close to Christmas and excitement rose from us children but I think Pop and Mom were just excided. But we kids had school vacation until after New Year. But Pop had stopped shrimping and work somewhat normal hours at the wood mill. But the best thing was hearing Mom gathering up items around the kitchen . Cookie sheets, racks, bowls, cookie cutters and a huge wooden rolling pin I have inherited. The house smelled of molasses, cinnamon and brown sugar. The main counter which was an old wooden table Pop built for her to use as a cooking area was lined with flour, eggs, cream and home churned butter. More baking pans and bread pans. Candied fruits and nuts of many kids. And chocolate aroma rose from the double pan that sat on the stove under the lowest temperature Mom could manage. Well the oven sat lit at a even temperature.
All of us kids had something to do to help decorate up for the coming Christmas and the reliable visit from St. Nick. My two older brothers and two youngest sisters decorated the tree the others would help Mom assemble a ginger bread house and make Christmas cookies by the dozens and candies that went into soft boxes Mom made to give out to friends and people at the nursing home. My self and my brother Donny we decorated the walls and fireplace up with pictures drawn at school and home. Stocking even though Mom got at the local 5 and Dime Store were are wondrous treasures of artworks. Each bearing our names. Mom, Pop, Mike, Pat, John, Joe, myself, Don, Petra, Lynn , Anne, and Susan and our youngest brother Jamie. Don loved the Naivety set even though it was just a cheap little one consisting of two sheep, a cow, a donkey, the three wise men and baby Jesus and of course Mary and Joseph. Don made them a barn that he made of twigs he collected to make it look like a barn. And straw he grabbed from the cow’s feed.
We would work all day on it. Making everything just right for St. Nick. Then after every soft boxed was filled we would put them in gift boxes with canned goods. Then Mom would make sure we were all bundled up in coats while Pop packed up the truck with the gift boxes. After us kids were loaded into the station wagon we would follow behind Pop who had the two oldest boys with him. Off to neighbors we would drop off a box of holding food and each containing a soft box of cookies and candies wrapped in wax paper. The biggest joy was going to the nursing home and dropping off several soft boxes. We spend a couple hours singing and talking to the elderly folks. Not one of us kids walked away with the feeling of being bored or thinking it was a dumb thing to do. For we knew that with the smallest deeds of time, kindness and love we would be rewarded.
Our reward wasn’t the toys that we got from St. Nick, but the good feeling when we handed out Mom’s soft boxes filled with the cookies and candies we kids had made. The look of enjoyment in the eyes of people that we gave the goodies to was that they were not forgotten this one time of the year.
The years came and I grew up and had a son of my own, I continued the tradition. And the Christmas before my parents had passed on we all gathered together again. We recalled the soft boxes and the goodies and all the stories associated to our childhoods. We smiled and laugh and talked until one by one all went to bed except Mom and myself. Looking at the overflowing Christmas tree that was artificial now I noticed that little cheap Naivety set and the still surviving barn lacking the hay. Mom put an arm around my waist and I hugged her back. I couldn’t help but wonder so I asked her, “Mom why do you keep that old thing?” Her answer was simple as those long days behind, “It is to remember the simple joy of Christmas and the fulfillment we can bring to others if only we remember to give from our hearts,” she whispered softly.
