Some Christmas Memories

I'm going to share at least a few of my favorite Childhood Christmas Memories.

Review: It was Frank and Edith Wilkerson(Mother and Daddy)

and Mary Ann and I(Elizabeth).

We lived in a 2 bedroom, 1 bath house. Mary Ann and I shared a bedroom, always, with twin beds. In the early years, toddler, preschool, we shared a double bed - but in all my school years I remember the twin beds.

It was a wonderful house - well built - my uncle(Daddy's brother) was the architect who designed it. It was not brick and it wasn't wood. It was a shingle which was popular at the time - each shingle had a black lined pattern, which overall created a gray look, but not solid. The shutters were dark, either black or almost black/green. The floors were hardwood. The kitchen was tile. Like, what? Formica? Whatever was popular in 1953/54 when the house was built. There was no fireplace, central gas heat. (There's a reason for these details)

Entering the Front Door was the Foyer.

To the left would be the living room.

Going Straight toward the right was a sliding door, the kind that slides into the wall. It disappears into the wall.

Through that sliding door was a short hall.

First room on the right was mine and Mary Ann's room.

at the end of the short hall straight ahead toward the right was the one bathroom.

at the end of the short hall to the right was Mother and Daddy's room.

at the end of the short hall to the left was the den which was directly behind the Living Room.

Through the den continuing left was the kitchen.

Continuing through the kitchen were two tiny rooms, teensy, which were storarge and laundry, and then the back side door.

If one came through the foyer, through the living room, out the side door of the living room,

one would be on the screen porch.

The screen porch was on the side but the door opened to the front of the house structure.

So, looking straight at the house - were two doors on the front.

The main front door and the screen porch front door.

The house sat on a rather large lot, under the shade and limbs of 8 pecan trees.

It was a flat lot - if there were any slopes I imagined them , they were slight and added a bit of variation for my doll buggies or bicyle rides.

The street had been cut into a pecan orchard. So, eventually, houses, modest in size, filled up the subdivision. It was one long street. Running behind all the houses on our side of the street was a very very very large cotton field. And way way way across that field were woods.

Okay - so in those woods Daddy would go to get smilax

to decorate the front of our house.

He did that almost always - It's a very vivid memory. In North Alabama it's called Jackson Vine, but we always called it Smilax and it was abundant and still is -

He would frame our front door with the smilax for greenery and then within that would be those huge outdoor multicolored lights. I thought it was beautiful!

I don't remember our buying a tree. I'm sure we did sometimes, but mostly I remember Daddy cutting one down. It wasn't a gorgeous type like we must have these days - but every year, after it was decorated, we said it was the prettiest tree we'd ever had.

Always multicolored lights.

so, we'd have the tree and the front door adornment - and then Mother would do her things around the house - tastefully done - but there was no extreme designer stuff going on.

In the peak years when Mary Ann and I believed with all of our heart in Santa Claus

this is how we did it.

I would be almost sick with excitement - and to fall asleep was nearly impossible - but I did.

I never slept solid and remember waking when it was dark - and beginning the call to Mother and Daddy. Mary Ann and I never dared get up out of bed. For one thing, it was so cold. Daddy totally turned off the heat at night. Remember it was gas central heat? Well, when he finally would get up, he'd say, "Let me light the pilot and heat up the house first". Then he'd crawl in bed with Mary Ann and me, in between us - because as a special treat we slept in Mother and Daddy's bed on Christmas Eve. Well, I was nearly hysterical the whole time. Daddy would get us all revved up - and we'd be wondering what was in the Living Room - the magic of knowing Santa had actually been there - and all we had to do was walk down that short hall, through the sliding door that disappeared into the wall.

So, we'd lay there in bed talking and wondering, and Mother was stealing as much sleep as possible. I mean she didn't budge until she had to. What I didn't know was that she was exhausted. She'd been doing Christmas all season and I didn't get it until I was a mom of 4 girls.

But as a child I would think, "Mother just doesn't get as excited over Christmas Morning as Daddy does!" I don't know how I could have possibly thought that. She was always in the kitchen cooking something for the holidays and always adding the decorative touches around the house. But it was Daddy and Mary Ann and myself who decorated the tree, and who did the front porch, and who got up early on Christmas morning. -

So, we'd keep testing the warmth, and I'd be begging to get up, and when Daddy would give the go ahead, I'd jump up like a rocket. I can remember jumping all over that bed like a trampoline, calling Mother to get up. She was just in the next room. So, it just seemed to all take so long before we could finally go in there.

Daddy would go first and turn on the tree lights. That's all that would be on, the only light, and it was still dark outside. We never had our Santa Claus gifts wrapped. I loved it that way.

The glow of the colored lights on those shiny new toys was more magic than I can ever hope to see again in this lifetime - but I have the memory of it and that's a great thing - and we had our childrens' wonder to live through, and now we have the grandchildren. And after all that, I'll be about ready for heaven, if I live that long. :-)

I was never disappointed. I always got the doll I'd asked for and a few other things. We didn't get a lot - but I was never disappointed. I felt blessed beyond all blessings.

It seems like the whole world was simpler then.

I know Mother stressed then just like Moms do now.

Daddy just always whistled, and clapped his hand, and snapped his fingers.

They both made it all so much fun,

and they told their own childhood stories.

They had their own good memories.