It's Christmas Eve so I thought I would share a little Christmas story, in hopes of spreading a little cheer around.
In the Winter of 1981, my family was in the middle of building the cedar house on Groaning Rock Road. I remember how we didn't have heat the first winter. I remember sleeping between my father and mother in the living room next to the fireplace since it was the only source of heat in the whole house. We really shouldn't of moved in yet, since the back wall of the house wasn't even closed in yet, but they were at the time so poor that renting a home wouldn't of allowed them to work on the house. I remember laying in my little crib/bed and hearing Mama and Daddy fight about finances and if they could even afford to buy me any presents that year. The fights were so common and loud in those days that my Great Grand Parents would often come up the hill and take me back to their house down the hill. It was this Christmas that Santa didn't come to my house. I was told that the chimney was stopped up and that Santa would have to come back later to bring me something.
So, Christmas morning, instead of opening presents, Mama let me sleep in. It was my Papa Jack, My Great Grand Father, that woke me up that day. He burst into my room, yelling that Santa had come to the wrong house and had left all my presents at his house by mistake. He knew my parents were going through a tough time. He knew that they wouldn't of been able to give me anything that year. So... the story goes that at 2am, he had called one of his friends who just happened to manage the Sears store in Commerce and convinced him to let Papa come by for some, really last minute Christmas shopping. I remember walking into Big Granny's living room and seeing a candy apple red tricycle right next to her heater. It was gorgeous! The reflection of her dining room lights made the paint glow like as if it were on fire. The little tassels would flutter each time someone would open the door. To the four year old me, this was a Ferrari. I loved that tricycle so much that I never let anyone else ride it, if I could help it.
I remember seeing Mama hugging Papa Jack and crying. I remember him saying that "A boy needs a tricycle. A young boy needs a Christmas". That tricycle went through some rough times with me. I would ride it all over the areas dirt roads. It was my main transportation on many trips to the creek on Dunson Cemetery Road for a hot summer afternoon of Horney head fishing. It may of lost the tassels a week after I got it, we may of wore through two sets of tires, and it may of been beaten up by a young rough and tumble boy, but the greatest present of my life never lost that gleam and glitter in it's paint job.
In the Winter of 1981, my family was in the middle of building the cedar house on Groaning Rock Road. I remember how we didn't have heat the first winter. I remember sleeping between my father and mother in the living room next to the fireplace since it was the only source of heat in the whole house. We really shouldn't of moved in yet, since the back wall of the house wasn't even closed in yet, but they were at the time so poor that renting a home wouldn't of allowed them to work on the house. I remember laying in my little crib/bed and hearing Mama and Daddy fight about finances and if they could even afford to buy me any presents that year. The fights were so common and loud in those days that my Great Grand Parents would often come up the hill and take me back to their house down the hill. It was this Christmas that Santa didn't come to my house. I was told that the chimney was stopped up and that Santa would have to come back later to bring me something.
So, Christmas morning, instead of opening presents, Mama let me sleep in. It was my Papa Jack, My Great Grand Father, that woke me up that day. He burst into my room, yelling that Santa had come to the wrong house and had left all my presents at his house by mistake. He knew my parents were going through a tough time. He knew that they wouldn't of been able to give me anything that year. So... the story goes that at 2am, he had called one of his friends who just happened to manage the Sears store in Commerce and convinced him to let Papa come by for some, really last minute Christmas shopping. I remember walking into Big Granny's living room and seeing a candy apple red tricycle right next to her heater. It was gorgeous! The reflection of her dining room lights made the paint glow like as if it were on fire. The little tassels would flutter each time someone would open the door. To the four year old me, this was a Ferrari. I loved that tricycle so much that I never let anyone else ride it, if I could help it.
I remember seeing Mama hugging Papa Jack and crying. I remember him saying that "A boy needs a tricycle. A young boy needs a Christmas". That tricycle went through some rough times with me. I would ride it all over the areas dirt roads. It was my main transportation on many trips to the creek on Dunson Cemetery Road for a hot summer afternoon of Horney head fishing. It may of lost the tassels a week after I got it, we may of wore through two sets of tires, and it may of been beaten up by a young rough and tumble boy, but the greatest present of my life never lost that gleam and glitter in it's paint job.
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