A TRUE CHRISTMAS STORY

by Barb Brooks

Of all the Christmases that I recall, one stands out in my mind.  It really wasn’t so different from our other Christmases.  Early preparations began as they always did when the walnut and filbert trees in the yard shed their prized nuggets.  With baskets in hand, we would hustle to pick them from the ground before the squirrels hoarded them for the winter.  Mom would eventually chop and fold them into her delicious fruit cake and cookie batters.  We girls would take care of housecleaning chores while Dad worked and mom did the shopping. Something, however, seemed different on that Christmas.  I started hearing noises in the basement in the late night hours.  I don’t recall inquiring as to what or who it was, and despite my childish wonderment, an inner voice told me not to go down and investigate.  All I knew was that something was different.

Soon it was Christmas Eve and I lay snuggled in my bed, waiting for that special moment.  Suddenly I heard the faint jingle of bells in the stillness of the night and I knew Santa was very near.  Yes! The magic of Christmas was here just like it was every other year.  The following morning we children stood at the top of the stairway with great excitement, waiting impatiently for mom and dad to join us.  Finally we descended to the living room, plugged in the colored lights and squeaked with joy at the sight of bountiful presents under the tree.  One by one, we opened our gifts. It was a wonderful Christmas, just like every other Christmas.

It wasn’t until recently that I learned what made that Christmas so different. My older sister revealed that it was mom and dad in the basement during the late night hours.  Dad had been laid off from work that year and they were down there, refurbishing some used toys. Reflecting on that for a moment, I then realized what made that Christmas different and indeed, so special. They were working diligently into the night so their five children could experience the magic of Christmas once again. The child in me continues to hear the jingle of the bells and the voices in the night, if only to remind me of how blest we were having two fine parents who could share their love for us through the gift of giving with gifts re-touched by two angels.