Spending time with family makes the holidays special. We try our best to accomplish this.
Please read and enjoy the holiday experiences shared with me by three friends and blog visitors—Taylor Graham, Anne Constantin Birge, and Eileen Hacker. I’ve also included one of my own (Alan Lowe’s), in . . .
Memories Are Made Of This
Christmas On The Grapevine
Husband and I, four German Shepherds, antique organ for daughter, emergency camp gear in our VW Kombi—we headed south for San Bernardino, holiday with family. Gassed up in Frazier Park. VW quit on I-5 onramp. Rolled back down, into an old car fixit shop. Needed parts from Bakersfield—shut till after Christmas, but we could camp there. Hiked with dogs down arroyo to Lebec, then up a snowclad mountain. Christmas dinner: Dinty Moore stew. Awake in my mummy bag, I watched and listened—
gay lights on distant hills,
angel bells? tinkling with stars
of a frigid sky
By Taylor Graham
Daddy’s Christmas Gift
By Any Father’s Child
One early December day in the mid-1970s, Daddy’s eight-year-old niece was upset. When asked why, she said, “My birthday is on December 21st and I don’t get the same number of presents as my brothers.” Daddy said, “My birthday is June 15th. How would you like to have a birthday in June?” Her eyes lit like Christmas lights and she quickly agreed. There was one caveat: When she got “old enough,” she’d give her birthday to someone else in need.
Daddy’s been gone since Christmas 1991. For 45 years, a few children’s June 15th birthdays helped his memory live forever.
By Anne Constantin Birge
The Christmas Surprise
Dedicated: To My Twin Daughters
“We’re getting a baby for Christmas!”
we told our three-year-old son.
“You’ll like a sibling. Won’t you?
That’d be lots of fun.”
The doctor wasn’t suspect,
(Ultrasounds rarely done).
The nurse was much the wiser.
“There’s probably more than one.”
The first was born quickly.
Too small, the doctor thought.
The nurse gave a smile.
(While I was quite distraught).
The second came easily.
In three minutes, she was born.
Two Christmas miracles,
on a cold, December morn.
Papa in the waiting room,
stood by with just his prayers.
“I’m glad you’re sitting, Sir.
Your babies come in pairs!”
By Eileen Hacker
Where Were The Men?
It was mid-December. Sitting at the dining room table for our annual holiday dinner were my mother’s three aunts and uncles, my grandfather, my father, my seven-year-old sister, and nine-year-old me. My mother and grandmother placed a huge turkey, stuffing, veggies, and potatoes before us. The food smelled great. When they sat down, we gabbed and enjoyed dinner. After the meal, the ladies removed the dishes and food from the table. But where were the men? Why weren’t they helping? The answer—all five reclined on the living room couches, snoring like freight trains, with full stomachs moving up and down like giant waves.
By Alan Lowe
Copyright © 2020 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.
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