Making Christmas Memories

Memories are made each year at Christmas. I recall Christmas as a boy in

Chickasha, Okla. Doc Walker, who had no family, often joined us. He

brought several varieties of expensive cheeses, special cold snack foods,

and fancy breads that we never had any other day of the year. One Christmas

he gave me my first bicycle.

Later in life new memories were made that centered on my daughter, Julie.

I can still recall how excited she was every year. Her face is so expressive

anyway; it was especially joyful watching her open gifts. And she loved

helping her mom in the kitchen. Christmas is a wonderful family event.

Even in poor families, Christmas can be a joy. Some however, are so

poor, that without help from strangers, it can be pretty bleak.

In 1983 Margaret and I heard of a needy family. We first got to know

Charlie, their ten-year-old boy. He rode his bike all over downtown

Yukon. We often saw him near the drug store where I sometimes met

Margaret for a noon sandwich. His family lived in an old house nearby

that had seen better days.

We took them several sacks of food, not just essentials, but pop, cookies,

corn chips, cake mixes plus many staple items. We visited with the parents

in the living room of their humble home while the four children were

removing food from the sacks in the kitchen.

I imagined they were breaking into the cookies, or opening one of the corn

chip packages. Our quiet conversation was interrupted by Charlie’s

loud voice.

He was bounding out of the kitchen with something in his hand held high in

the air.

“Mom, look, toilet paper.”

It was a four-pack carton. We all smiled at one another. I think his parents were embarrassed.

embarrassed.  But the main thing I recall many years later is the image of

Charlie and the joy he expressed about having something so ordinary as toilet

tissue. I do not remember what gifts we shared at home that Christmas.

I have no idea at all. But I will never forget the Christmas that year at Charlie’s. home.