It’s Christmas Eve day. My husband Charlie and the boys, Bud, Smitty, Pat, Tommy and Junior (a.k.a. the Husbands of the Women Who Run With the Moose) are out delivering presents. See, every year we have this tree down to Town Hall with stars on it. On each star is a request for a present from a kid in town. You know, a kid whose family needs a little help. Anyone can go down there, take a star, buy the present, wrap it and drop it back to Town Hall. If there are any stars left over, the Knights of Columbus buy the rest of the gifts. Then, on December 24th, Charlie and the boys deliver ‘em to the houses. They call themselves the “Santa Squad.” I don’t know who enjoys this ritual more: the kids or Charlie and the guys!
Then again, it could be the Women Who Run With the Moose. Why? Because it gets the boys out from underfoot, so us gals can do what we have to do to get ready for the holiday. Christmas Eve is one thing when you’re a kid, and quite another as an adult, right? That starry-eye look of excitement and expectation has been replaced by dogged determination: to finish baking, wrapping, cleaning and all the other stuff you’ve scrawled on your list.
Me? I’m taking a little break here. Kicking back with a cup of coffee and a couple of molasses cookies. I was just looking through the old photo albums. You know, stoking the fires of Christmas spirit. And I come across these gems. There’s me, nineteen months, all dressed up for midnight mass, I think. Bright-eyed and bushy tailed, I’m hoping to stay awake long enough to catch Santa in the act. I never seemed to manage that, of course. This is my second Christmas, and the first where I got the whole Santa thing. My sister Irene will be born the following May, so this is my last solo Christmas, and would you look at that haul!
I think that’s a Little Lulu doll in the baby carriage. “Little Lulu, we love you-lu, just the same.” Do you remember that cartoon? Lulu was a favorite. There’s a tricycle and a little engine to ride, a snazzy chair and a cute stuffed dog. Guess who was a very good girl that year!
Once Irene came along and she was old enough, I’d wake her up Christmas morning at the crack of dawn, and together we’d race downstairs to see what Santa brought us. And to look at our stockings, stuffed to the gills. We had to keep it quiet, though, and no present unwrapping until our parents got up.
And I remember the year when I started to have my doubts about Santa. But I played along for Irene’s sake, and for my parents, too. I didn’t want to take the fun out of it for them. I actually felt kind of bad for my parents when neither Irene or me believed anymore, knowing Christmas would never be the same. A feeling I revisited after my mother passed away.
But Christmas is also about making new traditions, isn’t it? Soon our family will expand as my niece Caitlin and nephew Jimmy think about starting families of their own. And we have some little ones on Charlie’s side who bring the bright-eyed excitement of Santa right back to me. God bless ‘em.
Well, there’s the timer. My tarte au sucre is ready to come out of the oven. If you’ve never had maple sugar pie, boy, you are missing something. It’s so sweet, you can only eat a small piece, or you get nauseous. But it’s the good kind of nauseous, from eating too many sweets!
So pace yourselves, gals. And today, try to take a minute to reconnect with that little kid inside you. Remember what Christmas felt like way back when, and let that holiday spirit burn bright!
Have a wonderful Christmas, everyone! Catch you on the flip side!
Hear Ida Tell It: Christmas Eve Day
If you haven’t checked out my Christmas videos, here’s a link ‘em. Enjoy!