We spent days pouring over the pages of the catalogs we received. Our “wish list” was filled with something from just about every page; none of which we would receive, but nevertheless it kept us out of our mother’s hair. The excitement was almost unbearable by Christmas Eve. My mother had baked dozens of icebox cookies; made divinity and fudge and purchased walnuts and pecans to crack. We had a huge heat register in our dining room and we would all sit around cracking those nuts and my grandfather would walk across the room barefooted and exclaim something loudly in his native Norwegian language after he stepped on those hard shells. I don’t remember ever being told what he said!
We were given oranges and peppermint sticks for treats in a stocking; perhaps a small store-bought toy as a gift. As I look back on those Christmases, I couldn’t even tell you what gift I might have received. All I remember is that all of us were together, laughing, sharing jokes and stories. My mother was and is amazing. She created so many loving memories for us and still does at eighty-two!
I hope you all have great and loving memories of your childhood holidays.