Magic of The Past

I sometimes miss my childhood days. The summer evenings beneath the orange sunset sky chasing lightning bugs. The spring days, spending hours in the field searching for four-leaf clovers. Fall, looking for witches and spooky ghosts around every dim corner. Most of all I miss Christmas time when my granny would come to visit for an entire week. I still remember the sound of her 1964 Ford Fairlane, which was the most exciting clamor and clangor in the whole wide world.

The holidays felt so much more special back when I was a child. The whole family would come together at our house. None of us had much money so the gifts that we shared were usually handmade. I remember the eagerness and enthusiasm when granny walked through the door holding that deliciously suspicious package wrapped in brown paper. I always knew that it was her famous Red Velvet Christmas Cake. She baked one just for me every single year.

It was the most beautiful cake that I had ever laid my eyes upon. That creamy snow-like frosting covering the deep red festive cake. She garnished it with sugary crystals that melted on the tip of my tongue.

Our home was always warm with laughter during the holidays. Daddy would keep the fireplace blazing bright and comfortable while mama cooked diligently in the kitchen. The whole house smelt of freshly cut cedarwood and wonderful holiday spice.

I'd cuddle up on the sofa next to granny beneath her soft, warm afghan. She'd tell me stories about her younger years and what the holidays were like so long ago. "I'd get an orange and a stick of peppermint in my stocking." she'd say as I hung onto her every word. My daddy and the other men would be sitting around the pop-up table playing cards and drinking egg nog. I wasn't allowed to drink the egg nog, but I always loved the way that it smelled; like Christmas.

The women would all be in the kitchen, wiping their foreheads with white handkerchiefs and feverishly helping mama add the finishing touches to each dish. We always had both honey ham and a big, juicy turkey for dinner. My daddy was a hunter and made it his mission to catch us a fresh turkey every year. Grandfather would bring the ham all the way from Michigan.

The few gifts that we had beneath the tree were usually wrapped in old newspaper or plain brown wrapping paper. "Save the bows!" my granny would chime as we ripped open the packages on Christmas morning. We never noticed that our presents were adorned with the same bows over and over again.

I had a very important job to tend to each year during this time. It was all up to me to keep our live tree watered. It was a simple task until granny arrived with her little dog "Charlie." That dog was constantly drinking up all of the tree water. Looking back on it I now know that there is something a little bit magical about having a real, live Christmas tree.

On Christmas Eve we would all find a bed wherever we could. Mama and daddy always kept their bed to themselves. Granny would come sleep with me. Aunts, Uncles, and Cousins would be stretched out on the sofa and on the floor all around the living room. Mama had special "family" blankets that we only brought out during the holidays. She made sure that each person was warm and comfortable before turning in herself.

Being a child during Christmas can be overwhelming, even back when I was one myself. In order to help me fall asleep Granny would have me lay as quiet and still as possible. We'd listen carefully for the sound of reindeer landing on the rooftop. If I made any sudden movements or sounds, it could have scared them away. Within moments I'd be fast asleep.

It almost always snowed during Christmas back then. The weather was much different than it is now. We had lots of snow all winter long. Dreaming of a white Christmas wasn't such a far-fetched dream to have. After dinner, my cousins and I would go outside and play in the snow. Afterward, we'd come inside and warm ourselves in front of the fireplace and mama would warm up leftovers. The rest of the evening would be fairly quiet and laid back. Everyone would be relishing in the moment and relaxing. Most of the family would leave the very next morning. It always felt sad to watch them leave. It would be another whole year before we saw one another again.

Those were the good ol' days when life felt more simple and the simple things meant so much.