I grew up in a bungalow that had a chimney but no fireplace.
I can't remember ever asking my Mother how Santa would get in.
I can't even remember when I stopped believing in Santa.
At this very moment, I wish I was 7 years old.
Or I wish I was the parent of a 7 year old.
Christmas concerts at school.
Festive Arts & Crafts.
Paper Snowflakes.
Making a Santa with a cotton ball beard.
I grew up in a very small family.
My parents emigrated to Canada from England.
We had no relatives close by.
My parents had alot of close friends that became their family, but
Christmas was just the 4 of us, my Mother, Father & older brother Phil.
Christmas Eve, my mother would stay up so late
wrapping all our gifts at the dining room table.
Christmas morning, we'd wake up with our stocking on our bedroom doorknob.
In it was usually a mandarin orange, a 50 cent piece, a bit of chocolate,
one of those small plastic games with silver balls in them that are
impossible to master and a *to do* project.
The *to do* kept us busy so my Mom could get another half hour of sleep.
Christmas morning was the ONLY day of the year that I would wake up before my Mom.
(ouch!!! I just sneezed so hard it feels like my right eardrum burst)
My favorite *to do* was a bag with a little piece of wood, a small tube of white glue,
a few pieces of felt and a pattern. Follow the pattern and voila - one year it was
a mouse another it was an elephants head.
When we were done we'd wake up my parents and open our presents.
I loved getting books and new pyjamas. We would all get a book.
After presents were done, we all went our separate ways.
It was a day I remember as being very relaxing and warm.
I'd go outside to play in the snow or into my room to read my new book or
play with my new toys.
Mom would tidy everything up and then supper preparation began.
We'd have a traditional Christmas Turkey Supper at the dining room table
with a yummy Trifle for dessert.
I had the perfect childhood. Not just Christmas, everyday.
We were not rich, we were not poor, we were not spoiled
and I don't ever remember feeling as though I went without.
It wasn't even a thought.
I was fed, clothed, loved and nurtured.
I was allowed to play.
As a child in the 70's we had freedoms that kids today unfortunately
will never have. It was a different world.
I realize how lucky I was.
I wish that for every child.
Tonight as I sit here at home alone with a nasty cold, my husband with his family,
my parents with my brother and his family, I am hoping to be nestled all snug in my
bed and fast asleep so Santa can come in without the fear of being seen.
Tonight I am thinking about the people I love:
MERRY CHRISTMAS.
Our awesome 70's Christmas.
My brother took this photo with his new
Polaroid Camera!
