My earliest Christmas memory is from 1966, I was only two years old but I still have a clear picture of that Christmas Tree with the presents and in particular a toy train, unwrapped and resting on a circular set of train tracks. I talked to my mother about this memory when I was about ten years old. She was amazed that I had such a clear memory and she told me how young I was and where we had lived at the time. I asked her if it was an upstairs apartment in a big white house, yes it was, she said. Why did my mind choose to remember going up those steps and seeing that Christmas tree? Perhaps the spectacle of all the bright lights and colorful decorations and gifts seemed absolutely awesome to a two year old boy.

While my sisters and I were growing up we went through what a lot of people these days would call a rough Christmas. That is we didn’t always get a lot of presents. With four children to buy for I am sure that my parents often had a difficult time. Mom and dad would often say, “Now kids, we don’t have much money, but we will do what we can”. Now that I am grown I understand what they went through and I feel regretful that they had hard times because of the holidays. I also feel more appreciation for what they did go through to try to make Christmas good for us.

As we grew up the money situation improved and we often got nice gifts, but we never felt that the presents were the only thing that made Christmas special.

Even when we were a little older mom and dad would say, “Now kids, we don’t have much money, but we will do what we can” and even though they knew we didn’t believe in Santa Claus they would encourage us by telling us that maybe Santa would bring more. All the way up to Christmas Eve there would be one or two small gifts under the tree for each of us. But when we woke up on Christmas morning and went downstairs our eyes would widen when we saw all the presents that “Santa” had brought while we were sleeping.

One Christmas, when I was twelve, I wanted a BB gun more than anything. Both mom and dad continually said that I could not have a BB gun because they were too dangerous. Most of us have seen The Christmas Story, well they used that movie against me and said that I would shoot my eye out! Eventually I gave up asking for the BB gun and really had no hope of getting one.

When I came downstairs on that particular Christmas morning I searched all under the tree for a package that might be shaped like a BB gun, but there was none. Well, about the third present I picked up to open my dad yelled, “No, don’t open that one yet!” But it was too late, I had already torn off enough of the wrapping to see that it was four brand new tubes of BBs! Sure enough, they had gotten me a BB gun, but it was hidden in a closet.

By David Slone, Copyright 2009 ChristmasChimney.com all rights reserved and may not be republished in any form.