“You can go ahead and tell me what you got me for Christmas,” I once whispered to my sister. “I promise I will forget by the time it finally gets here.”
Lying in cozy beds in a chilly upstairs bedroom, four little girls had been tucked in for the night and ordered by our aunt to go right to sleep.
“I don’t want to hear a peep out of anyone!”
It never failed, just as Aunt Marilyn got to the bottom of the stairs, someone (I will not name names) let out the tiniest little chirp.
Giggling with the blankets pulled up close to muffle our silliness, we tried hard to settle down and get to sleep.
Our parents were likely out Christmas shopping, our dad’s sister watching us for the evening.
Restless
With Christmas nearing, we were probably all sugared up from tasting way more frosting than we actually put on the cookies throughout the evening.
Certain that Santa would fly right over our home without stopping in a couple of weeks if we didn’t obey, I asked my sister how in the world I could sleep if I had to wonder what surprise she had wrapped in shiny paper just for me.
“Close your eyes tight. Say your prayers again. Make yourself yawn even if you don’t have to, and before you know it, you’ll be yawning for real, and then you will fall asleep!”
My sisters played tricks on me sometimes, but that time, it wasn’t a trick. It really worked.
Sledding
In the final week or two before Christmas, we hoped for snow along with cold enough weather to go sled riding and ice skating all in the same day.
Our sledding hill was just right for kids our size, and a red, round saucer was perfect for flying downhill, a couple of kids holding on tight.
When our feet and little legs could barely be felt anymore, numbed by the freezing temperatures, we packed up and carried our sled and saucer back, and tucked them in to the storage spot, hopeful to use them again the next day.
We knocked the snow off of each other, then went back in to the house for dry socks, barn boots and coats, sitting down at the table for hot cocoa with marshmallows on top and some saltines or graham crackers for dipping before heading to the barn for the night milking.
Winter chores
Chores required special attention when the weather turned so frigid.
We knew it was important to bed the calves down with lots of extra straw, making sure each calf was alert and playful.
From there we went on to check drinking water supplies, making sure all the ice was broken up and carried away, then fresh water put in every bucket, trough and stock tank.
The work was harder in the dead of winter, but I had learned to whistle or sing as I went along and it made heavy work suddenly light.
My great grandfather had taught me this, and boy, could that man whistle.
Sometimes, he and I would sing together while we shook out bale after bale of straw for the calves and then the cows, calm and quiet, settling in for the night after they left the milking parlor.
Be good
“He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake, he knows if you’ve been bad or good so be good for goodness sake.”
Great Grandpa Charlie would wink at me when he asked if I thought I could be good all the way to Christmas.
“Try real hard, now, and maybe you’ll get some new socks,” he would say.
“But if I’m extra good, will I get more than socks? Like my very own doll baby?” I remember asking.
He would just shrug his shoulders and say we’d better keep right on working if I was counting on something bigger and better than new socks.
Remember that overwhelming feeling of giddy hopefulness, the magic of it all, no matter where you were or what you were doing? A new doll baby just might be possible.
