Christmas Memories

What gets you in the spirit of the season? If you are like me, it’s memories that bring back unexpected and treasured glimpses of childhood when Christmas was no less than sheer magic and wonder.
I was born and raised in Southern California, and I don’t ever recall experiencing a snowy holiday. That doesn’t stop me from feeling nostalgic though whenever I hear Bing Crosby singing “White Christmas.” I loved that song as a child and still do.
Our “good” stereo was in the living room and took up almost as much space as the sofa. But the lack of floor space didn’t stop my sisters and me from singing and dancing to our several Christmas LPs. Or we’d go in our bedroom and play them over and over, scratches and all, on our little vinyl-covered record player that snapped shut like a tackle box.
We didn’t just love Bing. We loved all the holiday songs and we knew every word: Steve Lawrence and Edie Gormet singing “Let It Snow,” Jo Stafford belting out “I Love the Winter Weather,” even Alvin and the Chipmunks squeaking “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.” For us, the music fulfilled our Currier & Ives fantasy of how Christmas really should be.
Of course, we loved the Christmas specials on television too. I’m so glad they are still in the rotation so my children can share my memories and I can watch shamelessly. Even though most of those old shows are hopelessly dated, there is so much retro charm in the simplicity of the stories and production. If you've seen both the original Rudolph special with its stop-action puppetry and minimalist sets and the recent Rudolph 2 computer-animated sequel, you know exactly what I mean. Improved isn’t always better. Back in the days before DVDs and VCRs, we anxiously awaited Rudolph, Frosty, Charlie Brown, and Santa Claus is coming to Town.
In 1968, Pacific Coast Highway was the only way to get from San Diego to Disneyland, which was all I cared about as far as destinations went. No malls, just endless orange groves. For my family, shopping was a monthly excursion in the station wagon to Fedmart, an occasional outing to White Front, and heavy reliance on the Sears catalog. Let me tell you, there was nothing more wonderful than getting the Christmas Wish Book in the mail.
It was perfectly titled. Wish Book. That’s what it was for us kids. It was never about how much stuff you could get, but all about how much you could want! We pored over that catalog, fought over it, hid it and made lists, salivated for all those wonderful toys right there on the page. I wanted patent leather GoGo boots, troll dolls, a pogo stick and an Easybake oven with all those mixes. Then I could make my own cookies and cakes and eat them whenever I wanted.
Granny Grace would send us each $5 and we would devour the catalog again trying to find the most perfect toy. I don’t think we ever considered pooling our bonanza and choosing one very expensive $15 item. Either it was beyond our wildest imagination or the idea of sharing with siblings simply too abhorrent to consider.
Although Santa was frequently in our thoughts, we did know Christmas was really about baby Jesus. After all, mom’s prized Christmas decoration was a small nativity set. The stable was made of cardboard with tabs fitting into slots to create a three-sided structure. We carefully arranged the bits of straw. Dad would insert a little nightlight bulb in a hole in the top of the back wall and plug it in. Star of Wonder! We loved that part. Then we helped unwrap the painted clay figures from their crumpled tissue beds and place them around the manger. Surprisingly to us, mom let us play with the nativity—arranging and rearranging the figures while embellishing the story—for hours on end.
Those days are now much further away than a White Christmas, but that is part of their beauty. The family memories, a few homemade ornaments we made from salt dough and paint, paper, glue and glitter, and some fading photographs are all that’s left. My sisters and I would sing the lyrics to “Toyland” never comprehending the meaning of the words:
Toyland, Toyland. Good little girl and boy land,
Once you leave its borders
You can never return again.
Merry Christmas from my family to yours this holiday season.