Christmas (abt.) 1985

From Anna Ogden Jenkins’ journal (or maybe Olive's??)

Christmas Gift

As far as Christmas goes, life holds many wonderful memories. It all begins with parents, I guess, and my parents loved Christmas. My father was a child having fun at Christmas time.

Early on that important morning we would be awakened by Dad shouting, "Christmas Gift!

Christmas Gift!" while loudly ringing a cowbell. Thank goodness, he wasn't Scrooge—but then, Scrooge didn't have any children, did he? That isn't to say my Dad wasn't careful about what was spent on Christmas. In fact, I often think that I remember that about the first of December I would hear Dad saying to Mother, "Things are a little tight--be careful what you spend this month." But we didn't have anything to worry about—we could always depend on Santa Claus.

There was always a Christmas party a few days before the big day at the Ward. Everybody went, and there was a program about the birth of Jesus. I remember that one year Mother took the part of Mary, and she looked so pretty in a blue shawl over her black hair. A year or so later my Dad had some responsibility with the program that made it necessary for Mother to take us children alone to the program, and she said we could see him there and all come home together.

The Christ-child program went on as usual and we listened to the carols sung by the choir and the children, and then the announcement was made that sleigh bells could be heard in the distance. We were all so quiet, waiting to see if it was Santa coming! Sleigh bells rang and got closer and closer still, then out onto the stage bounded Santa Claus with a cowbell in his hand, and a big hearty laugh with his pillow-belly shaking, and he shouted, "Christmas Gift!"

"Christmas Gift!" I thought. Nobody I knew said that but my Dad.

"Where's Daddy?" I asked Mother.

"He's coming later," Mother said, laughing and clapping. "Watch Santa—he's going to be handing out presents."

"Christmas Gift!" Santa shouted, as he brought the candy treats from his pack. "Ho, Ho, Ho," he cried. "Have you been a good little girl?"

"Oh, yes, Santa, I've been good," I answered, while I thought, "You should know I have."

Later, when all the goodies had been distributed from Santa's pack, and the jolly man had said, "Good night! I'll see you all on Christmas Eve! Be good little boys and girls!" and he had vanished out back to his waiting sleigh and reindeer, and the bells had become fainter in the distance—later, here came Daddy asking if we had enjoyed the program and had we seen Santa Claus? As we all went home together, my hand in Daddy's, and Santa's words ringing in my ear, "Christmas Gift! Christmas Gift!" —I thought it was a most wonderful Christmas.