Growing up in Kansas, we sometimes had a white Christmas. More often it was just cold, brown and windy, but there was always the hope of snow on Christmas day. We always had a Douglas fir Christmas tree, and they smelled wonderful. Sometime in the 60s though, my parents bought a silver aluminum tree with a color wheel. Oh my, we thought we were right up town. The tree didn't need lights. The color wheel turned, and the tree went from red to gold to blue to green. We did hang ornaments on it, though.
One of my favorite Christmas gifts was a fairy tale storybook from my Aunt Sue. It was big and thick and had a shiny, colorful cover. I had that book for years, and it kept me entertained for hours at a time. My sister Sandi got one, too.
Another favorite gift, when I was 11 or 12, was a record player. It was a box with a green cover, and came with two 45 rpm records. One was Toyland on one side, don't remember what was on the flip side, and the other was Elvis Presley singing Teddy Bear on side one and Love Me Tender on side two. I had that record player for years before I wore it out.
One Christmas Eve we did have snow and ice, and a group of us kids decided to go Christmas caroling. (We learned Christmas carols in school). I took my violin and played the songs while the others sang. At one house we were turning to leave, and I slipped on the ice and fell. My 3/4 size violin went flying, skidding across the frozen snow. I was terrified that I had broken it. We were very poor, and the cost of buying the little violin had been a sacrifice for my parents. Thankfully it was okay and I played it for many more years before they bought me a full size one when I was in junior high school. I still have that one, and still play it now and then.
My dad worked at Boeing Aircraft, and every year in December Boeing sponsored a circus for its employees and their families. We would go to the Wichita University roundhouse (the basketball arena) and watch the circus, then receive net Christmas stockings filled with goodies when the show was over.
One year when I was in 5th grade, we had a Christmas program at school. In those days it was okay to talk about the true meaning of Christmas in a public school. I was the narrator, and still remember telling the Christmas story as my classmates acted it out. I was a quiet, shy kid, and my teacher told me to look at the clock on the wall above the heads of the people in the audience, and they would think I was looking right at them. He was right, and I was so proud of myself for getting through the program without forgetting my lines or being frightened. Years later I used that trick whenever I had to stand up and talk in front of people.
My mom and aunts made us the most wonderful Christmas stockings, and they were always filled with an apple, an orange, mixed nuts and ribbon candy, and sometimes a small toy or two. They would make divinity, colored red and green, and marshmallow fudge. We would make red and green paper chains to decorate the Christmas tree or the house, and sometimes string popcorn for garland.
We had cousins nearby, and lots of neighborhood friends. When it snowed we would play for hours, coming inside only to warm our hands over the gas heating stove and to let our mittens dry out. We had warm hooded coats with matching "leggings," flannel lined pants with suspenders that were worn underneath the coats to keep our legs warm. I hated leggings. We always wore dresses to school, and my mom would insist that we wear the leggings. It was an ordeal to tuck the dress down inside the pants, and it was uncomfortable. Then we had to wear galoshes over our shoes, a scarf, a hat and mittens or gloves. By the time we were ready to go outside, we could hardly move and we were hot. :o)
It's been a long time since I lived in one of the poorest neighborhoods in Wichita, Kansas. We didn't know we were poor when we were kids. Looking back, I think we were blessed. We treasured what we did have, and didn't know enough to know it wasn't much.
That's my sister Sandi on the left, my baby sister Johnnie in the middle, and me on the right in the picture from the 1950s. :o)
In 45 minutes, it will be 2009. It seems as if we just went though all the hype about the turn of the century, and here eight years have flown by already!
