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Tuesday, December 21, 2021

"Once in a Lifetime Christmas," by Will Wright

 

 

Once in a Lifetime Christmas

by Will Wright

 

What is it about the Christmas season that turns some events into giggly delightful memories that we cherish all our lives? I remember hearing a special Christmas‑time story about just such an event. Perhaps in the story is the answer to my question.

The setting was a small farming community during the early 1930's. The country was experiencing the Great Depression. There were few dollars changing hands, and most people were grateful if they still had a home and regular meals. It was a better time to be a child than an adult. But the children also felt the economic sting C for most families even inexpensive things were no longer affordable.

When the children entered school that fall, most tried to squeeze into the clothes they wore when school let out three months earlier. The lucky ones had hand‑me‑downs from older brothers or sisters or neighboring families. During the Depression, some families had enough food to be able to spare some for the children=s school lunches, but some did not have enough. Often the children would pool their lunches C they put all the lunches together and divided everything equally. That was the best way. It=s hard to enjoy your lunch when your friends don=t have one. In many ways it was a special time. Young people grew up a little sooner, and people learned to appreciate small things.

As the Christmas season approached, the memories of other Christmases prompted everyone to quicken their step, be happier, look forward to delightful times C to catch the Christmas Spirit. But the harsh economic realities of the time whispered into each ear: ANot this year . . . perhaps another year things will be better.@ That is a hard way to face the Christmas season for children. It is even harder for parents.


Now of all years for it to happen It would have to happen this year! A new sled entered the market place C the Flexible Flyer! Wow! It was beautiful! It was red C bright red. A gleaming finish covered the graceful wood deck. Up front were the handlebars to steer this magnificent machine wherever its lucky owner would choose to go. This was the ultimate in sleds C the ultimate Christmas gift for a child in a snow covered farming community with lots of hills and slopes.

The Flexible Flyer was prominently displayed in the local hardware store window. What a sight! What a delight! What an impossible dream! Neatly positioned by the sled was a reminder of the Depression. It was the price tag. $4.98! A small fortune in those days. Even though it was an impossible dream, that did not keep the children from thinking about the Flexible Flyer. By dreaming we can keep going; we can defy even a Great Depression and guide our very own Flexible Flyer down delightful snow covered slopes and enjoy the crisp fresh air rushing by us as shiny sharp runners send a spray of snow arching from our path as we negotiate twisting turns and bumps and dips.

 The school Christmas party was held as usual, and school was dismissed for the holidays. The children were happy to be out of school, but they did not look forward to Christmas Day with the same anticipation enjoyed in previous years. Money was very scarce. It was a year to be grateful for a warm bed and a tummy that was not hungry. Gifts and toys and Flexible Flyers would have to wait for better times. The children understood. They could see the struggle their parents were having. They did not want to see the hurt look in their parents faces that asking for toys and Flexible Flyers would bring. There will be other Christmases C someone will still be making Flexible Flyers.

Now one of the young girls in that humble snow covered farming community, let=s call her Edith, had all of these thoughts running through her mind that Christmas. So when she went to bed on Christmas Eve Edith was grateful for what she had, but she found it hard to anticipate Christmas morning any more than any other morning. She slept in later than most Christmas mornings. Edith thought, AThat will be my gift to myself C to make up for the other gifts we can=t afford this year C I=ll sleep in this morning.@

But Edith=s mother called her and told her it was time to get dressed and meet the rest of the family at the Christmas tree, and as Edith walked into the room she saw it! Chills ran up her spine! Her hand rushed to her mouth as she let out a high pitched squeal that only a young girl can duplicate. Edith crossed the living room in two leaps landing on her knees in front of the impossible dream at the base of the tree C a Flexible Flyer that had a large red bow on it and a little card that said AEdith@ on it.

Edith stroked the smooth wood finish, she turned the handlebars from one side to the other, she hugged the sled as tears rolled down her face and then stared at her parents in disbelief. ABut we don=t have any money,@ cried Edith. Edith=s mother and father felt tears swelling up in their eyes now. The dear price they had paid seemed worth it a thousand times over right now. It was a moment and a feeling that none of them would ever forget. Never!

There were other presents. Edith=s mother had made Edith a beautiful dress. Her brother got the pair of cowboy boots he had wanted for a long time. It was a good Christmas in bad times. But through it all Edith was like a frog glued to a dozen springs C she could not be still. Her excitement was evident in every movement, look, and squeal. AA Flexible Flyer!@ C she must have shrieked a hundred times before Christmas dinner was served.

After the noon‑time Christmas dinner Edith=s mother told her to dress as warm as she could, bring her Flexible Flyer, and meet the rest of the family at the sleigh by the barn. AThere is another surprise in town,@ she said.

As they entered town Edith saw the other surprise. An inclined portion of Main Street had been roped off to form a path several blocks long for sleds. Excited people were everywhere. It looked like the entire town was there. Edith saw Flexible Flyers scooting down every slope in sight. Several sleighs pulled by the horses were being used to pull the boys and girls on their sleds to the top of the barricaded street. Taking turns, down the hill they came in wild delight screeching and screaming and yelling all the way. Near the end of the incline a crowd of parents cheered the group on. Hour after hour the group relished the magic of this special Christmas C the year the unaffordable Flexible Flyer found its way under dozens of Christmas trees. Each family that had bought a sled had to sacrifice to do so. But watching the ecstatic children flying down the hill was reward enough for their sacrifice. As an added bonus, there was deep satisfaction in being able to thumb your nose at hard times for one exceptional day.

As the exciting afternoon passed into evening the wintry scene was lighted by the reflection of a full moon on the snow. Several small fires were started to warm the group. It grew quieter as the sledders grew tired from dozens of trips down the slope and the chill of the evening took hold. All were reluctant to end this magical day when an impossible dream came true for children and parents alike. Finally the group gave in to weariness, cold, and hunger. Off they went to their separate homes with their Flexible Flyers and their memories of a once in a lifetime Christmas.

 Several days later Edith walked into the barn to watch her dad milk the cows.. She noticed that their best milk cow was not in her stall. Dad explained that he had sold her just before Christmas. He had some flimsy excuse about her getting old. It was the way he groped for words and an explanation that gave the secret away. Edith felt a rush of emotion, and tears came into her eyes as the truth hit her C her parents had sold their best milk cow so they could give her a Flexible Flyer for Christmas. She ran from the barn and shed her tears where no one could see her. She better understood now how much her parents loved her and how much she loved them. It was a tender, growing, and character‑building moment.

 As Edith shared her new found truth with her best friend at school the next day, she learned that her friend=s father had sold apples door to door in neighboring towns to get her Flexible Flyer money. In time, story after story surfaced to reveal how the entire community had combined in a joint effort of extra work, bargaining, selling, and sharing to buy Flexible Flyers. Sure, the children had all wanted the beautiful red sled displayed in the hardware store window, but none had dared to ask their parents for it because they knew the family could not afford such a luxury in those hard times. But in a secret plan the parents had combined in a dedicated effort of sacrifice and cooperation to provide a very special Christmas for their children.

A price of sacrifice and extra effort and increased hardship had been paid. It bought dozens of Flexible Flyers and hundreds of memories with a value beyond price. It also bought treasures not anticipated by the buyers.

 As the children returned to school after the holidays they were different. Sure, they still had to share lunches and squeeze into clothes that did not fit quite right, and they had to do without things that they took for granted a few years before. What was different was the spirit and attitude the children displayed. The attitude of down‑and‑out was replaced with an attitude of can‑do. They showed more appreciation to parents, friends, and teachers. They sensed the love and sacrifice of their parents and the community, and they felt a need to be better and to do better.

The parents felt the change, too.  Not just in their children, the whole community changed.  Everyone moved with more energy and determination.  There were more smiles and greetings as people met on the street.  The Great Depression of helplessness seemed to be replaced by a spirit of optimism.  As it turned out, the price paid for this very special Christmas was small compared to the benefits received.  While buying Flexible Flyers, they also bought a renewed spirit of optimism and determination and faith in individuals, families, and their community.  This truly was a once in a lifetime Christmas.

Monday, December 20, 2021

"To See Again" by Gary B. Swanson

The mother sat on the simulated-leather chair in the doctor’s office, picking nervously at her fingernail. Wrinkles of worry lined her forehead as she watched five-year-old Kenny sitting on the rug before her.

He was small for his age and a little too thin, she thought. His fine blond hair hung down smooth and straight to the top of his ears. But white gauze bandages encircled his head, covering his eyes and pinning his ears back.

In his lap he bounced a beaten-up teddy bear. It was the pride of his life yet one arm was halfgone and the other missing. Twice his mother had tried to throw it away and replace it with a new one, but he had fussed, so she had relented. She tipped her head slightly to the side and smiled at him. It’s really about all he has, she sighed to herself.

A nurse appeared in the doorway. “Kenny,” she announced, and the young mother scooped him up and followed the nurse toward the examining room. The hallway smelled of rubbing alcohol and bandages. Children’s crayon drawings lined the walls.

“The doctor will be with you in a moment,” the nurse said with an efficient smile. “Please be seated.”

The mother placed Kenny on the examining table. “Be careful, honey, not to fall off.”

“Am I up very high, Mother?”

“No, dear, but be careful.”

Kenny hugged his teddy bear tighter. “Then I don’t want Grr-Face to fall either.”

The mother smiled. The smile twisted at the corners into a frown of concern. She brushed the hair off the boy’s face and caressed his cheek, soft as thistledown, with the back of her hand. As the music drifted into a haunting version of “Silent Night,” she remembered the accident for the thousandth time.

She had been cooking things on the back burner for years. But there it was, sitting right out in front, water almost boiling for oatmeal.

 The phone rang in the living room. It was another one of those “free offers” that cost so much. At the moment she returned the phone to the table, Kenny screamed in the kitchen, the galvanizing cry of pain that frosts a mother’s veins.

 She winced again at the memory of it and brushed aside a warm tear slipping down her cheek.Six weeks they had waited for this day to come. “We’ll be able to take the bandages off the week before Christmas,” the doctor had said.

 The door to the examination room swept open, and Dr. Harris came in. “Good morning, Mrs.Ellis,” he said brightly. “How are you today?”

 “Fine, thank you,” she said. But she was too apprehensive for small talk.

 Dr. Harris bent over the sink and washed his hands carefully. He was cautious with his patients but careless about himself. He could seldom find time to get a haircut, and his straight black hair hung a little long over his collar. His loosened tie allowed his collar to be open at the throat.

 “Now then,” he said, sitting down on a stool, “let’s have a look.”

 Gently he snipped at the bandage with scissors and unwound it from Kenny’s head. The bandage fell away, leaving two flat squares of gauze taped directly over Kenny’s eyes. Dr. Harris lifted the edges of the tape slowly, trying not to hurt the boy’s tender skin.

 Kenny slowly opened his eyes and blinked several times as if the sudden light hurt. Then he looked at his mother and grinned. “Hi Mom,” he said.

 Choking and speechless, the mother threw her arms around Kenny’s neck. For several minutes she could say nothing, as she hugged the boy and wept in thankfulness. Finally, she looked at Dr. Harris with tear filled eyes. “I don’t know how we’ll ever be able pay you,” she said. “Since my husband died, it’s been hard on us.”

 “We’ve been over all that before,” the doctor interrupted with a wave of his hand. “I know how this is for you and Kenny. I’m glad I could help.”

 The mother dabbed at her eyes with a welcome handkerchief, stood up, and took Kenny’s hand. And just as she turned toward the door Kenny pulled up and stood for a long moment looking uncertainly at the doctor. Then he held his teddy bear up by its only arm to the doctor.

 “Here,” he said, “Take my Grr-Face. He ought to be worth a lot of money.”

 Dr. Harris quietly took the broken bear in his hands. “Thank you, Kenny. This will more than pay for my services.”

 The last few days before Christmas were especially good for Kenny and his mother. They sat together through the long evenings, watching the Christmas tree twinkle on and off. Bandages had covered Kenny’s eyes for six weeks, so he seemed reluctant to close them to sleep at night. The fire dancing in the fireplace, snowflakes sticking to his bedroom window, the small packages under the tree—all the lights of the holiday fascinated him.

 And then, on Christmas Eve, Kenny’s mother answered the doorbell. No one was there, but a large package was on the porch, wrapped in metallic green paper with a broad red ribbon and bow. A tag attached to the package identified the box as intended for Kenny Ellis.

 With a grin, Kenny tore the ribbon off the box, lifted the lid, and pulled out a teddy bear—his beloved Grr-Face. Only it now had a new arm of brown corduroy and two new button eyes that glittered in the soft Christmas light. Kenny didn’t seem to mind that the new arm did not match the other one. He just hugged the teddy bear and laughed.

 Among the tissue in the box, the mother found a card. “Dear Kenny,” it read, “I can sometimes help put boys and girls back together, but Mrs. Harris had to help me repair Grr-Face. She’s a better bear doctor than I am. Merry Christmas! Dr. Harris.”

 “Look Mother,” Kenny smiled, pointing to the button eyes. “Grr-Face can see again—just like me!”