The Christmas that Sort of Wasn't

Once upon a time I was previously married and had two very young kids. Christmas was always a very stressful time of year because we generally didn't have the money to spend on anything let alone presents.

A few days before Christmas we went and got a real tree. Well, it was more like a Charlie Brown Tree. It was ugly and crooked. But we had lights that my in laws had given us and the kids had made ornaments in school, plus we had some of our own.
Off to home we went to take our prize pine and set it up.

Husband cut the twine holding the tree on the roof of the Isuzu Trooper. His knife was very sharp. He cut the twine and his ring finger down to the bone.

We dumped the tree in the house, I called the neighbor and herded the boys to their house. At the ER I watched them sew the finger up. 

The tree was set up and decorated. If one squinted, it even looked beautiful. If one turned the lights out and looked at it, it looked even better.

Christmas Eve we went shopping. I didn't want to go. Our account was pretty empty and the rent was due in just 5 days. I watched the credit card burn and the checks being written. Toy's R Us got our rent money.
With the kids in bed, I wrapped the gifts.
Husband went to bed.

I put things under the tree and then crept into bed very late. I lay awake most of the night worried about how we were going to pay bills. I wasn't impressed with the toys we'd gotten either. It seemed as if our shopping had been a frantic 'snatch and grab'.

The boys got us up early and I put on my robe and watched them with my husband. They marveled at their packages and toys. I didn't get any warm fuzzy feeling inside. Just the lump of dread knowing that there were bills to pay.
And who the heck decided Christmas was about gifts anyway?

Pretty soon my husband came into the living room pushing a red 10 speed bicycle. I had to admit, I had been wanting one desperately. 

Still that horrid feeling of something is wrong kept nagging at me.

Husband asked me what I planned for Christmas Supper. 

Whoops. I hadn't gone shopping because there was now money in the account. No my feeling of unease went to a feeling of being sick. 

I didn't plan on anything really, just something ordinary and simple.

The bike, the toys, all things we couldn't afford and now no special supper? Husband was angry in the 10th degree. He pointed at me with his splinted bandaged finger and called me names. I walked into the kitchen for his tirade while he carried on.
I was a terrible mother, I was no good, I was stupid, I'd better get my ass out there right away and find a ham.

Gratefully, I left the house to look for groceries. Husband assured me that the check wouldn't bounce for at least 4 days. And he'd be paid by then. 

I drove around with a sinking feeling. All the parking lots were empty. Nothing was open. The retail world had stopped.
You see it wasn't often that we actually did Christmas on Christmas Day. Normally my husband would have been on duty. But he was off with the injured finger.

I returned home empty handed. The boys were blissfully playing. Angry husband stomped out of the house to look himself.
He returned empty handed.

I cooked oatmeal cereal that night while husband fumed. The boys were happy as a couple of clams. Apparently they did not care what they had for Christmas Supper, as long as they could get back to the new shiny toys.

Me? I'm no longer married to that husband. I don't get into buying a ton of gifts and I'm sort of a tight wad in that department. Christmas Diner/Supper is still not a big deal for me. I hate to cook anyway.
But Christmas Eve is still special for me.

And it is not about the gifts either. 

The Night I Knew Santa Existed.

I was just a little kid and we'd taken the longest drive on earth to go spend Christmas with the rest of the family who lived in a place called 'up North'.  Well really, they lived in Northwestern Wisconsin and we lived in the suburbs of Chicago.

We ended up at my cousins' farm on Christmas Eve if my memory serves me correctly.
My cousins had the absolute coolest ever place.  It was an old farm house and at the time I don't think they had a bathroom in the house. 

Of course as kids we didn't really mind as they weren't my only cousins without an indoor bathroom.
I am pretty sure that I preferred their place and envied them even though we rented a nice place in the Chicago suburbs.

After all, they had woods to play in.  The had dairy cows, and they had everything in my eyes, everything a kid could want. 

Anyway we were upstairs doing something and we heard some stomping and the jingle of bells.
We stared at each other then tried to beat each other down the wooden stairs.

And there he was. Santa Claus.
Now kids at my school had been telling me there was no such thing. NO such thing.  And yet.  Here he was in the flesh with a huge red bag sitting on the floor next to him.  Snow was melting off from his boots and he clapped his hands together and gave out a huge belly laugh.

Yessir, that was Santa.  He was a living breathing person.  And he was so real.
We took turns shyly talking to him and he handed us each a gift.

I don't recall what I got that year, maybe it was the gunbelt and six shooter, or maybe it was the cowboy hat and shirt, perhaps it was all three.  It doesn't matter because I knew that the jolly red fellow was absolutely real and those kids back in school were dead wrong.

Pretty soon Santa had his snack of cookies and milk then proclaimed that he had a long night ahead of him and would we please continue to be good children.

He mentioned something that each of us had done over the past year and we knew he knew what was going on.

He left and we heard bells and him calling to us as he left.

"Merry Christmas to all and to all a Good Night!"

About a half hour after he left my uncle Freddy came in from the barn where he'd been taking care of his dairy cattle.  He seemed perplexed and wanted to know why there were reindeer tracks leading up to the house?

We ran outside and sure enough there were tracks of the little reindeer feet.
Yep, those kids were so wrong.

When I got back to school after break I got into a discussion with some other kids on the playground.  I proclaimed my knowledge that Santa was real.  

Let's just say my 4th grade teacher had to break up a playground fight.

I knew deep in my heart for I'd met the man, seen the reindeer tracks. He truly was real.