Looking through my parent’s photo albums is one of my favorite things to do when I visit them. I always go back to the one album that has a very specific Christmas. I believe it was in 1980 when I was 6 years old and my little sister, Jenny was almost 5.
On the eve of Christmas, Santa happened to make a surprise visit to our home in the middle of dinner. You can probably tell how excited we were just by thinking about two little girls hearing sleigh bells and a loud "HO! HO! HO!" coming from the next room. We tried to dash to the living room but our mom told us we couldn't until we finished our dinner. That night's dinner, however, was not very appealing to the two of us. When I think about it now I am thankful we even had a dinner but at the time fish sticks were not very appetizing. We weren't to leave the table until our plates were clean. Jenny and I held out...so long that my mother (who in her heart really didn't want us to miss a visit with Santa) finally released us.
Rushing into the living room and seeing Santa sitting in my dad's recliner and his elf standing over his shoulder, I thought they looked an awful lot like our Uncle Charlie and his son. I asked mom is she saw the resemblance and she said no. Santa was asking Jenny what she wanted for Christmas and after talking with her he handed her a candy cane and set her off his lap. He motioned for me to come forward and I jumped up. With the bellowing "Ho, Ho, Ho" he asked me what I wanted as well. I can't remember what I said but I do remember getting the candy cane, too.
That night we were all sound asleep. At least some of us were. Around two o'clock in the morning, our brother, Ray, sisters Jane and Wendy came into our room and tried waking us both up quietly. Telling us to shush and not to wake up mom and dad, they had us leave our warm beds to go and spy on what Santa had left us!
With flashlights in their hands we followed them down the hall to the tree. It was like going into a bank vault to see the many bars of gold. Our eyes were huge as the lights gazed upon the filled everyday socks we used as stockings hanging on the window stool and then to the presents that piled beneath the tree. We must have been really good that year. With nine kids, seven of which still lived at home, there were so many. Jenny and I didn't know where to look first. We saw Jane shake one of the gifts and then we heard Ray make a noise. It was then were heard the ominous voice of my mother:
"GET IN THOSE BEDS!"
We were back to our beds faster than you can say "Dash away all!" Jenny and I were under our blankets thinking we were in so much trouble! After about fifteen minutes, our siblings ventured up from their basement bedrooms again and told us to come with them. I told them I didn't want to go because if we got caught again we might get the wooden spoon! They convinced me otherwise and again we all ventured stealthily into the living room.
They started to shine their lights on other parts of the room where there set four GIANT boxes! We all looked around them for name tags and could only see one: Wendy. I guess we would have to wait until Christmas morning. Just then, one of them made another noise and there was my mother's voice again:
"I SAID GET IN THOSE BEDS!"
That was it. The tone in her voice said she meant business. After that we all never left our beds for the rest of the night.
Hours later, morning arrived and all of us one by one ventured into the living room. The ONLY thing we were allowed to touch was our stockings. Inside the usual fare of candy, toothbrushes and doodads filled them almost to the top. We all wore knee socks so there was a lot to fill. It wasn't until mom had her two cups of coffee and put on her Santa hat that it was time for presents. She would sit near the tree, take a present and call out the name of whose it was. She would either hand it off to the person, the person would go and get it or she would toss it over to them. That year there were a lot to get through.
We all had fun and used a giant black trash bag for all of the wrapping paper. The four huge boxes still remained. And for those boxes Dad wanted to be the one to hand those out. Dad called out Wendy's name first and she opened it up and it was a brand new state of the art stereo from Sears. It had a record player, AM/FM radio and cassette deck. She was so excited! Ray was called next and he revealed the same thing. Jane opened her box and, of course, the same exact stereo system was inside. But who was the last box for? There was no name on it.
Many years before, our sister Audrey had made a best friend of a young redheaded girl who lived a few streets away. Ever since, Trish has been a part of our family as well as her siblings. She came by for dinner usually on Mondays. Every Monday was spaghetti night and my mother made a huge metal bowl of it. I remember her taking a massive knife and cutting through the pile of it so it was cut into quarters. It was easier to serve and eat that way. Every now and then Trish would be wearing a white blouse and, inevitably, spaghetti would find its way onto it. They teased her about it but it was done with love. They would tell her “Don’t wear white on Mondays!” Trish was sweet and fun and we all loved her. Still do.
That Christmas morning, our mother called her house and asked her to come over. Trish came by and, being the very polite person she was, said “Merry Christmas, Mr. and Mrs. Everlith!” She still greets them the same way. I think my parents thought it was always good to have another kid in the house especially when they were as nice as Trish.
When we were all gathered in the living room my father explained to her that Santa had left one of her presents at our house. It was the last big box. She was so surprised she didn’t know what to say. We all knew what was in it and I remember Jenny and myself giggling because we knew she would love it. Santa had thought of everything!
She ripped the paper and opened the top of the box to reveal the brand new stereo. She had no words. It may have been thirty-nine years ago but I still remember her happy tears. She gave a big hug to our mom and dad and kept saying “thank you”. Audrey says she thinks they carried the stereo all the way back to her house on foot.
I remember us many times not having a lot but I never remember a time when I ever wanted for anything. My parents taught me at a young age three very important lessons: to be thankful for what I had, never be too proud to ask for help when needed and to give back when I could. Those are lessons that I have never forgotten and all of us have never forgotten that Christmas day.
