christmas on memory lane...part one

I grew up on a small farm in the middle of nowhere. It truly was the end of the line. The railroad tracks ended at the little town down the road. There was a "Y" in the tracks so the train could turn around and head back. And the County actually closed the dump at the end of the gravel road by our farm because it was too far out for people to haul their trash.

And now that I'm grown with a family of my own, I realize that my family was poor. My dad worked hard to make a living on the farm and we had the advantage of growing up with good, fresh food but rarely any real cash. It's probably just as well because we kids seldom left the farm. A trip to the city was an event! "Going to town" was somethig I loved and looked forward to. But winter was often tough as we regularly found ourselves snowed in.

My mother is one of the smartest, strongest, most sensible women on earth. She could make anything out of nothing and she often had to do just that living out on the farm. She also didn't drive. I was in school before she even got a driver's license. And she never really cried much. When she was sad or disappointed, she would shrug and say, "Well, if I can't do anything about it, there's no sense in bawling."

But the Christmas I remember vividly involves my mother crying. Because she didn't drive, she depended on my dad to take her shopping "in town" and when he was busy on the farm, there were no trips to Lethbridge. It was getting close to Christmas and I am sure there were at least four little children in the house anticipating the arrival of Santa Claus. Complicating everything was the fact that the road was snowed in and it was bitter cold outside. My dad hated going anywhere when it was cold.

I remember my mom sitting in the kitchen late one afternoon (I hardly ever saw her sitting) and she just sort of melted down for a moment; sobbing and crying quietly as she said to herself that it would be Christmas Eve tomorrow and we still hadn't been to Lethbridge. I couldn't understand what going to Lethbridge had to do with Christmas Eve but my mom was clearly distraught. I told her not to worry because Santa Claus was coming and we should all be happy! But that seemed to make her more sad.

My dad worked really hard on the day of Christmas Eve and somehow my whole family was miraculously loaded in the station wagon and on our way to Lethbridge! It was so exciting!! Mom had even perked up although she kept muttering about how stupid it was to try to go to town on Christmas Eve. This truly was back in the day when stores closed early so people could be home with their families.

I remember driving into Lethbridge and just gazing in awe at all the Christmas lights! It was like a wonderland! My parents had a job to do and we children were admonished to sit in the car and behave. We were so excited what with all the lights and Santa coming, I'm not sure how Mom and Dad managed.

Mom was right and most of the stores we tried were already closed. It was dark and my mom's mood grew darker as she met disappointment after disappointment on that trip. Finally we pulled into the Woolco parking lot just before 7pm ( the store was minutes from closing) and Dad told us to just stay in the car; he'd only be a minute. He sprinted into the store leaving Mom and us kids in the car. A few minutes later he came out with a brown paper bag, handed it to Mom and told her to hold it until we got home. He winked as he told us we were going to have a GREAT Christmas tomorrow. Home was an hour away at least and I'm sure we kids all fell asleep in the car but when we got home we were fed and hurried off to bed; a plate of fruit cake left out for Santa and strict orders that if we didn't sleep, Santa wouldn't come. That was soooo hard. Who could possibly sleep thinking about Christmas morning?

I had been trying to sleep for a long time when I heard my mom giggling. If I scrunched up just right in my bunk bed I could see into the living room through a crack in my door. And there was my mom and dad in the living room dropping goldfish into a big glass tank. My mom was giggling and following the fish with her finger and then giggling some more. Dad told her to quiet down or she'd wake up the kids. I watched my mom for a while and then drifted off to sleep. Seeing her happy made it easier to sleep.

The next morning there was a note from Santa saying "thanks for the cake" and he'd "left a fish for each person in our family; MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!"

I don't remember asking for a goldfish but by the end of the morning, we kids couldn't remember asking for anything but! Santa had come and that's all that counted. We had a huge meal and played and relaxed and enjoyed our new wonderous fish!

As I've grown older and reflect on how hard it must have been for my mom and dad to raise a brood of children with next to nothing I am so thankful for their creativity and their commitment to making my childhood one worth remembering. To this very day, I LOVE goldfish and I think part of the reason that I've always had a fish is because Santa brought those golden fish that really cold, yukky christmas that was actually one of the best Christmases ever!!