Here come's Santa Claus...

This is the view looking out my bedroom window. I was in the same bedroom all of my growing up years. I shared it with Leslie till I was about 12, then she moved downstairs. I was so sad when she moved downstairs. (although she was probably happy to get away from her pesky little sister) We used to giggle and talk in bed till mom would hollar at us that she was going to lower the boom if we didn't get to sleep. We used to decorate our room at Christmas time with chains we made with glue and colored paper. One year, daddy let us pick a tiny tree at the tree lot to have in our bedroom. I still remember how beautiful I thought it was with the string of lights, and our home made ornaments and tinsel on it.

Christmas always seemed quite magical at our house... we would pull out the big box of decorations early in December. I love the way that box smelled... (still smells the same) a mixture of pine and the old closet it was stored in. It held all the precious things that once displayed, made it Christmas time in our home. They never spent a lot on decorations...Just home made things that were special to us.

We used to have the bubble lights all over the tree, but as time went by and they wore out, sadly, you couldn't replace them. The next one's I remember were the big colored bulbs with the reflectors on the backs. These were my favorites. So colorful and shiny! We used to get a new box of tinsel every year, and would spend hours placing each silvery string carefully on the tree. One year we had a flocked tree. Mum really wanted it...they were all the rage in the 70's! But I remember daddy hated it. He said it just wasn't right or natural and it made a big mess too. "Hemel honey...that tree is a mess!" ( I think that must have been some German cuss word cause I heard my grampa say it too)

When mum and daddy got older, they got an artificial tree, and have been using that one ever since. It simplifies things, but every year, mom says. " oh I miss having a tree that smells good!"

She has made the prettiest crochet snowflakes that we hang on the tree every year now along with the all blue Christmas lights. Every Christmas morning, we find a nice new scrubbie she has made (now Teina makes them) in the tree for all us girls.

Anyway, back to Christmas eve... I remember the warmth of sitting by the fireplace, listening to daddy read the Christmas story from the Bible, then we would sing all the Christmas songs we knew while mom played the ukulele and daddy played the guitar. I especially loved to hear my dad play the guitar...wish we would have had the technology back then to record it...I'd give about anything to hear that again. Sometimes now when we are singing, I shut my eyes and try to picture him sitting there in the green chair with his guitar on his knee, and I can hear the rich tones of his steel guitar accompanying us.

Just before we go to bed, we would run to our bedrooms, and try to find the biggest, best stocking we have to hang by the fireplace. Mum would get out a big safety pin and attach each one to the screen on the fireplace.

Then it was off to bed and hours of giggles, and anticipation and watching out the window...waiting for Santa to land on our roof top in his sleigh and make his way down our chimney. We would say that we could sure hear the bells on his reindeer. I thought I surely could catch him cause I had the birds eye view right out my window...but the next thing I would remember, was mum peeking her head in our bedroom door..."Santa's been here!"

We would run downstairs to find a fire burning brightly in the fireplace, all of our stockings stuffed full with nuts, candy and always a orange in the toe. Then there were the presents...the whole room seemed to be filled with nicely wrapped presents (yes kids, that's where I got it from... everything must be wrapped) We would tear into them and with squeals of joy! It seemed like somehow, Santa always found just what we wanted.

After everything was open and the thank you's and hugs were given, we would go into the kitchen for waffles. Daddy always had to leave as soon as we had opened our presents to do his milk route. His job was really hard...especially in Cache Valley...the winter's there are nothing but brutal ...and he had to go out every morning... making his way around Mt. Sterling, and Wellsville to pick up the big metal cans full of milk from the farms and deliver them to the milk factory. I never appreciated it at the time, but now that I look back, I wish I would have thanked him for working so hard to support our family.

We would spend the Christmas holidays skating, or sledding, or just playing in the snow. We used to make trails around the flag pole and play fox and geese or build snow caves. (Seems like there was a lot more snow back then...maybe I was just smaller so it seemed like more). I remember one year, daddy flooded the lawn east of the old house and we had our own skating pond. (kind of bumpy but so much fun!) We would set up the card table and play games or put puzzles together by the fire. I really enjoyed this time spent with my family and have so many happy memories.

Laying in my old bed this past weekend, sleep wouldn't come so I looked out that same window I had looked out so many Christmas's before and all the memories came flooding back. For a minute, I was six years old again and I could almost hear my sister giggling next to me and feel the anticipation of Christmas fun.

As I thought about my childhood, I was overcome with gratitude for my parents and the circumstances I grew up in. Our home was always filled with laughter, and song and love.

I realize what a blessing that is and hope my kids have felt some of those same sweet feelings from their Christmas's growing up and have some of those same memories that they can hold as dear as I hold mine.