Posts tagged surprises

Too Old for Grandpa Santa

The real white beard should help his perfect “Santa Suit”. Adding a little coal dust, he headed to the chimney.

“Oh, Grandpa,” she laughed “Don’t you know I am 12 years old?”

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A Wonderful Memory of Days Gone By

“That’s my favorite Christmas song!” I said as I looked up at my mother.

She smiled back at me, busily wrapping gifts and checking the stove.

I looked outside, and noticed the dark gray sky, hoping, that soon snow would be coming down onto the mountains around our house. Going to my grandmothers farm for Christmas would not be a problem, because it was only up the hill from my house.

“Mom,” I asked with hope in my blue eyes, “Could I PLEASE open just one of my presents tonight. My friend Sarah’s family does that. It makes Christmas last another day. . Besides, with my birthday right after Christmas, it is the only really special time I have.”

Mom sighed as she removed a pumpkin pie from the oven. “ I like for you to wake up on Christmas morning-very early- (she smiled and brushed her hand through my curly hair) and see you sneaking through the house to find the presents under the tree. “You know that I hear you!”

“But Mom,” I begged, you told me that all your family had was stocking hanging on the end of your parent’s bed, with some fruit and maybe one toy. Things don’t have to always be the same!”

“Oh, alright.” My mother said, as she rushed about. “But just ONE!” she emphasized.

I jumped up, shouting “Oh, thank you, mom, thank you!”

I remember that day-49 years ago. I remember the dress she wore, the tattered apron over it,The tired look on her face, the flour spilled on the table.

Tears fill my eyes as I wonder where time has gone. My own children are grown and have children nearly that old. I lost a child 7 ½ years ago, and I often refer to this time of year as the “Helladays” because they make me miss my young, lively healthy family so much.

I struggle to cook a few snacks for the teen I still have living at home. Where does time go? Why do we loose those people and times we treasure so much? I wiped a tear and turned on the radio as I cooked.

That same song came resounding through the speakers. I was surprised, filled with a mixture of sweet memories and loss.

“It’s the most wonderful time of the years!” the orchestra and singers sang in a rhythm that could have come from that long ago day.

I sneaked into my sons room and handed him a small wrapped gift.

“Whats this, Mom?” he smiled.

“Just a little memory,” I said. Merry Christmas!

He got up from his video game and gave me a hug. “You are the best mom in the world,” he said.

And for a moment, I saw my mom saying the same thing to her. I held back the tears, so he wouldn’t see me cry and walked slowly back to the kitchen.

Perhaps the Christmas spirit was still alive after all.

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Invincible

It would probably be grandma’s last Christmas. Seeing the lights around town had always been so special to her, but her health wouldn’t allow the tour this year. Sue was only 12 years old, but as she told her dad about her plan, he fought a tear and smiled. For a week, while grandma slept, they strung lights, Early mornings, after dark, they worked.

On Christmas Eve, Sues dad bundled grandma up and rolled her out on the side-walk. “Where are we going?” she asked. Sue saw dad’s signal to turn on the lights. The whole neighborhood light up.

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The Ballerina Clock

The Ballerina Clock

I don’t usually go in for garage sales, but something about the hand painted sign attracted me. I pulled into the long dirt drive lined with cars, and headed toward the door of the 1960’s rancher,wondering what was drawing me to this house.

At first, it was just the usual, nick-naks, old clothes, furniture, books, a few silver vases, photographs. Then I saw it! A ballerina clock, like my aunt had once had. It was beautiful. I had missed it at my aunts sale when I had to go change a diaper. I know she would have wanted me to have it-I should have just taken it at the family preview, but I didn’t.

The clock was about 15 inches high. It had a windup on the bottom and played “Fur Elise”. I had wanted it for my daughters so badly! A ballerina came out a door and danced to the song when the clock was wound up. I truly thought it was one of a kind.

Of course, I will never know if this ballerina clock was my aunts, I doubt it. But it was now mine!

I carefully placed the clock, wrapped in old newspapers into a cardboard box and sat it gently in my car’s trunk. I couldn’t wait to finally give it to my daughter!

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