Christmas, what is Christmas?
Santa Claus. Candy canes. Ribbon candy. Tissue paper packages in a box from Canada with sticker seals holding the edges fastened. Those were the gifts that could be opened Christmas Eve, because the others weren’t there, Santa Claus hadn’t come yet.
Three little girls lined up at a closed hall door, dressed in new nighties, waiting with bated breath for the Mom to say okay.
Would they get what they wanted?
Oh, such anticipation. It is hard to capture the essence of the thrill that was known then. Once in a great while, something evokes it, but it is very elusive. Pine trees work to a fair degree.
Now it seems just a time to get through. Not for all. Some still thrill in the season.
It has long ago lost the memory of it being the day of the birth of a Savior. That has been misplaced.
Christians haven’t forgotten, but it is sidelighted (a piece of information that is in addition to the main information) by the New World Order.
It seems the main information is to get shoppin’!!!
When Ms. SpoolTeacher was a young girl, she did a lot of babysitting. It was often a very boring occupation and it netted 50 cents an hour. Even if there were four kids. Sometimes even if the neighbor threw in a couple too.
50 cents an hour added up. In those days, you could purchase a pattern for 75 cents. Fabric, who remembers? Not the prices of today, for sure!
That was all she wanted with her babysitting money. She wanted to spool. It wasn’t long before clothes weren’t cheaper to make than to buy, but she still liked to make her own.
Well, there was one lady she loved to sit for. They became friends and Margaret would later, when Ms. SpoolTeacher was of an appropriate age, invite her to her house parties where there were always boys. Grown up boys. Handsome boys.
Margaret was quite a bit older than Ms. SpoolTeacher; but you know how time does. Eventually the age gap narrowed and it was great fun to hang out with “older” ladies.
A long story to bring up the point of the aluminum Christmas tree.
Margaret had one. During Christmas season on those long, long, long, long, long nights where very young Ms. SpoolTeacher had put 4 children to bed and was waiting with bated breath for Margaret and her husband to come home from a night out, she would sit and be hypnotized by the beautiful silver tree with the color light wheel spinning multiple colors round and round, all the while reflecting off the beautiful collection of glass in a mirrored china cabinet. It was just the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She vowed in her subconscious to someday have one. One of each, an aluminum Christmas tree and a china cabinet filled with beautiful glassware.
She paid a fortune for her beautiful aluminum Christmas tree and a wheel to go with it. She has no regrets. She had money in those days.
The glassware? An untold fortune invested.
The china cabinet, a steal at an “antiques and collectibles” shop that had the price slashed in half. She can’t figure out why beautiful second-hand Thomasville, real wood and wonderfully made furniture can’t sell for a fortune, but she feels very fortunate that it can’t. $225. Priceless!
So this Christmas season, Ms. SpoolTeacher is on a roll getting her “compound” in the order that it will someday soon be a place Where Women Create.
She has made a little sitting room out of what she refers to as “The Mud Room”, taken everything out except what is essential. It used to be stuffed with sewing stuff, part of resource central.
It’s just right, small enough to heat efficiently once the drape is pulled on the doorway to the living room and the gap at the bottom of the old door leading out is plugged. She can sit and read old letters and laugh and cry.
She was gifted an heirloom family sewing machine from a friend who wanted to find it a good home. It fits right in the corner. Hopefully, before much longer, she will do something about that awful concrete floor. She wants to do a mosaic tile treatment. She may end up just painting it. Maybe something like Lapis Lazuli…
She knows, it’s hard to fathom what is in her mind’s eye, but she was a designer in her day, don’t ya know?
Everything is about comfort now. Working with what she has. Working with the least of things. Making it like she likes it regardless of what anyone thinks!
It’s Coming On Christmas.
She managed to be in the spirit enough to put up the aluminum Christmas tree. She’s read old letters from Sissy who is gone now but with whom she enjoyed countless memories sitting in a rocking chair together perusing the Sears Catalog for what Santa could bring and lined up at the hall door, dressed in new nighties, waiting with bated breath for the Mom to say okay.
What is Christmas?
At the very least it is the memory of Love. At the very most it is Love.