On Christmas Eve, my sisters and I would be sent to bed early so my parents could wrap the gifts and work on finishing up the baking and cooking for
the big day. We had a huge family and older siblings would be arriving early so everything had to be set up the night before. We would wait patiently
for Mom and Dad to finish up and finally go to sleep. Then, we would creep down the long hall from our bedrooms , past our parents bedroom to the
living room and stand in awe. There would be our giant Christmas tree with all the twinkling lights and decorations and underneath and all around,
what seemed like a hundred presents mostly for the four of us. They would be stacked , gift upon gift and there were so many of them that they were
placed on the end tables, the coffee table , in the corner and even hiding in the tree itself. They were just everywhere.
Then we went into action. Our ritual consisted of shaking boxes and feeling them up to guess what was inside. "This ones a Barbie .YES !" , The soft
whispers unable to hide the excitement. "I bet this is clothes" another one of us would proclaim "This ones mine. That one's mine. Here's another one
that's mine. Ooooh, that's mine" We would whisper as we tallied up the gifts bearing our names. We would count them to see who had the most and who
had the least. The only Christmas miracle that night, was that we all had the exact same amount. When we tired of playing "Guess what's in the
package", we crept into the kitchen to see what goodies were on display at the Holiday Sweets table.
The glorious sight of all those sweet potato pies , coconut cake , pear cake , pound cake, oatmeal , peanut butter ,sugar and chocolate chip cookies
made our mouths water. Bowls of delicious bright holiday candies sparkled as they were hit with the lights from the tree. The plastic wrap covering
the desserts caught it's reflection too. Large bowls of apples , oranges , pears and various nuts with wrapped candies also lay on the Holiday table.
All was quiet but for the sound of little hands digging in a candy dish to grab "just one...or two". Then , as quietly as we came , we all crept back
to our rooms sucking on candy and taking one last joyful look at the living room with the giant Christmas Tree and all those gifts.
We would be awakened Christmas morning, by the sound of my mother joyfully greeting our older siblings who arrived bearing even more gifts (mostly for
us) and trying to find a place for them near the tree or just in the living room if they could. It was wonderful. Then, we all sat on the couch while
one designated adult would pass out the gifts. Each one of us would be surrounded with our own gifts piled around us. And then, when all the gifts
were handed out, we would tear them open to either joyfully confirm, or be pleasantly surprised. I loved Christmas growing up. It was a wonderful time
of family and gifts and treats and good food.
I think I can speak for my sisters when I say, we didn't miss or need a Santa. I'm kind of glad there was no Santa because I don't think we would have
received so many gifts if there was one. Besides, Santa probably would have just given the four of us one large toy oven and told us to share it. I
just don't think Santa could have done a better job than my parents and older siblings. I knew there was no Santa and I STILL had the best
Christmas(s) ever. Even now as an adult, I can't even replicate that experience. If I could give that to every child in America, I would. If I had
the means to be a "Santa". I would. But, I guess, I just wanted to let folks know that I grew up knowing there was no Santa and I turned out just
edit on 25-12-2011 by skepticconwatcher because: (no reason given)