Christmas without Santa
Growing up in the fifties was great. Our mothers did not work and that gave them time to make delicious meals and deserts for their families. We didn’t know how blessed we were to have that. In today’s world it is far and in between that Mom is able to stay home to take care of their kids. Today some parents work from home and can kill two birds with one stone, so to speak,
Christmas was an exciting time for me as a child. I could not wait till Santa came to our house. I was a firm believer and no other kid could tell me different. After all, I left cookies and milk out for Santa to eat, and carrots for the reindeer, the next morning when I came downstairs there were just crumbs, the milk was gone along with the carrots. That’s how I knew Santa was real.
One Christmas Eve after I was already in bed, company came to visit my parents, and they woke me up with their laughter. I came down the steps stopping at the bottom landing and asked my Mom if Santa had come yet. She said no, but I asked if I could look. She reluctantly said ok, so I walked through the kitchen feeling shy because the company was sitting all around the kitchen table and I felt everyone was looking at me, though no one said a word. I walked into the living room and saw all of the presents. I said Mommy, he did come, he did! I asked if I could open up my presents and was told just one, so I sat on the floor and grabbed a present. Looking down to open it, I saw my name written in my Mom’s handwriting. I looked up at her and said “Mom, you wrote this, this is your handwriting.” My heart broke when I said “You’re Santa” and she said yes.
But at least one thing stayed true – celebrating Jesus’s birthday. As I got older one of the most favorite parts of Christmas, was going to Midnight Mass. Listening to the beautiful Christmas hymns being sung by the choir, seeing the little baby Jesus in His manger and singing with the choir to Silent Night. Afterward my friends would come to my house for a while and we would exchange gifts between us.
