When I got a funny little windup figure of Popeye one Christmas, it made quite an impression on me. I cannot remember more than three or four gifts throughout my entire childhood, but Popeye is one of those. The little tin man stood about five inches tall, and he had the typical Popeye look complete with one eye shut, a pipe in his mouth and oversized muscles that symbolized his strength. I have wondered many times over as to why I remember the funny little character. There is no remembrance of anything else that I got that Christmas, but I know that we opened our gifts on Christmas Eve, preparing to leave the next morning to go to my grandparents’ home in Puryear, Tennessee. Trips to Mother and Daddy Morgan’s did not happen very often, and the memories of those visits are uniquely their’s.
Although it is not associated with Christmas, I can still smell the reddish bars of Lifebuoy soap that were always in the “bathhouse”. There was an outbuilding in the backyard that had one room especially arranged with a number three washtub and all the things necessary for a sitdown bath. The clean, fresh smell of Lifebuoy permeated that whole shed. I don’t know what we did about bathing when it was cold weather, but I enjoyed my baths in that little neat room.
Another smell that was an all year round smell was that of homemade rolls. Mother Morgan seemed to specialize in making wonderful rolls, but for Christmas, I also remember her homemade fruit cakes. Other smells of Christmas were those of nice juicy oranges and apples, and peppermint candy (not canes, but long fat rolls of it!)
It seemed we were not limited as to how much fruit we could have…. and then… there were always nuts. We didn’t need to crack nuts open by putting one down on a rock and smashing it and our finger with another, nor did we have to use a hammer. Mother Morgan had a tool called a nutcracker that was so much easier than our methods, and our fingers were certainly safer.
Even a dusting of snow didn’t keep my cousins and me from playing out as much as we wished. We felt the joy that only children are capable of feeling, before the burdens of adulthood have dulled the senses of magic.
Could it be that the expectations of going to my grandparents’ house was what made the little tin man memorable?
A few years later, my two younger brothers and I were held as hostages in the kitchen, while our two older sisters made us believe that we could hear sleigh bells ringing and the hoofbeats of Santa’s reindeer on the rooftop. We remained there just long enough for Santa to leave our presents, and then we were allowed to go into the living room and open them. I remember getting a pencil box and some other odds and ends for school, and I remember being pleased with what I got.
It was Christmas Eve! We must be going to Tennessee again! Was it this glorious thought that put the magic in that Christmas, or was it the mystery that my sisters played out in the kitchen that evening as we anticipated a visit from the traditional jolly old man of the season? I think they were equally responsible. The small family unit worked together to provide the mystical joys, traditional to the season, in the privacy of our modest home, and it was the love of the extended family that brought special joys because we belonged.
This story of Christmas would not be complete without telling about one really special gift that I got from an aunt and uncle of mine who lived in Tennessee. They had learned that I did not have a baby doll, and when they gave me one, I was enormously touched. I immediately named it Robbie Joe. The next thing that I did was very important to me, and I am thankful that my dad understood and helped me with it. I had a dollar, and I wanted to give that dollar to Uncle Joe and Aunt Robbie. Whatever they thought of the transaction, I don’t know, but they accepted it graciously, and I felt really good. That doll was my treasure for a long time.
The Christmas pageant I referred to in my last article referred to my part as an angel, in which I recited, “Inasmuch as ye have done it to the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” Giving to those in need is a good activity for any season. May your Christmas be a joyous, happy event!
Feeling the magic of Christmas or any other family togetherness is a blessing due all children. The security and love within a family that exhibits God’s love among themselves and others will make longer lasting memories than could ever develop from a gift under a tree.
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