The Beginning

I was born 19 days before Christmas in 1957. Mom always said I was her Christmas present. My childhood was a fair tale. We didn't have money but we had a comfortable roof over our heads, food to eat, clean clothes to wear, an abundance of love, and Jesus ruled our home. Mom sewed most of my clothes out of flour sacks. (Back then, flour came in pretty sacks of cotton fabric. I wasn't the best dressed by any means but I was proud of those dresses - and was so excited when she had enough material for a new dress - until around the third grade when people began "picking on me" and my clothes. Now, it would be considered "bullying". I was bullied until high school.)

I never heard my parents even say a harsh word towards each other until well after I was married. Some of my most precious memories are of my Daddy walking up behind Mama while she was washing the dishes or cooking and loving on her; goosing her to make her laugh. We laughed a lot in our home. (Man, I was so disillusioned about how life was supposed to be when I got married. I didn't get that "fairy tale" my parents had.)

Thanksgiving and Christmas were always special. Mom made sure they were. She would bake for weeks; cookies, fudge, Pecan Pies for Thanksgiving Dinner (those were Daddy's favorite, next to the Coconut Cake she always made for his birthday - the day before Halloween). When I was tall enough to stand in a chair to reach the sink, I was in the kitchen helping her. She was an excellent southern cook and teacher. We had some good times in the kitchen together. It was her most favorite time of the year. I guess that's why it has always been my favorite also. Baking and cooking were just a way for us to spend time together. I will always miss that time with her but am so thankful for those sweet memories and everything she taught me. 

The day after Thanksgiving, my mother, little brother and I would go into the woods and chop down a cedar tree then drag it back home. (The smell of a cedar tree will always be a sweet Christmas memory for me. Those days were well before artificial trees which I have now only because of the potential fire hazard.) Sometimes we would walk for over a mile to find the perfect tree. When Daddy came home, he would saw it off to fit the room then set it into a bucket and stabilize it. I remember one year the tree was so big and full there was barely room to walk around it. That was the most beautiful tree and one I will always remember. 

Daddy had his first of four back operations when I was around six years old. (He was never the same after that. The doctor slipped and cut a nerve in his back. Even though he worked for the next twenty years, he lived in constant pain and did nothing other than work to provide for his family. The fun was over.) That Christmas, he was unable to work for a couple of months and I remember Mom worrying how they were going to pay the bills, let alone buy Christmas gifts. We went to church for Christmas Eve services and when we came home, there were more presents than you could ever imagine under our tree. The room was completely full. I was totally convinced Santa had come while were were gone. Later, I found out the church had made sure my brother and I had gifts under the tree. They even left an envelope of money as well as food. We were so richly blessed. 

We lived in the country and a trip to downtown Birmingham was a treat in those days and so much different from now. The buildings were all decorated with beautiful lights and Woodrow Wilson Park, at that time, (now Linn Park) was so beautifully decorated for Christmas. Daddy would sit in the car and keep it warm while Mom, my brother and I ran around the park. That was fun. To this day, I still love the lights and am always searching for communities decorated for Christmas. 

I wish I was still a child at this time of year. Everything was so much more magical and exciting.