Christmas was a happy time for Mary's family. The children and their families came home Christmas Eve or early Christmas morning. Thelma and her children came a week early. The commonly cold kitchen became warm and cozy. The days were filled with the aroma of cakes and cookies baking. Daddy, not to be outdone, would make a secret trip to town and return with apples, oranges, nuts and hard candy. The house was filled with the fragrance of Christmas.
The dining room, now fridged in winter, was turned into a walk-in "ice box". The dining table was soon covered with goodies; at least ten cakes, candies and the latest "you just have to try" new found recipes. But all these temptations were off limits until Christmas Eve.
The Christmas tree was set up in the "girls' room". The ordinarily cold room was heated by an oil heater or by the pot bellied coal stove in the front room. That old cast iron stove glowed red with extra heat, spreading it's warmth beyond those four walls to the magic room beyond.
The Christmas tree was a fresh cut cedar, not easily found in the boot heel of Missouri. But, somehow Daddy or one of the boys would find one. It was decorated with ragged garland, bare in places, glass ornaments, with peeling paint, hand made ornaments from school projects and a tattered angel for the top. It was beautiful, absolutely beautiful, in the eyes of two little girls.
Santa always visited the house on the hill. We knew he was watching the children inside because he always made a visit sometime during the weeks approaching Christmas. One night, when least expected, there he was, peaking in the window! It seemed that his face filled the whole window. His big blue eyes peered over a tattered white beard and a white fur lined cap covered his head. "Ho, Ho, Ho", announced his presence and just as quickly as he came, he was gone, but his ambiance remained for days filling the children with hope and wonder. Could it be there is someone , someone who loves me enough to over look my faults and mistakes? Could there be someone like Santa Claus, who forgives and loves me no matter what and wipes my slate clean for another year? Does he love me even though he has no obligation or duty to love and care for me?
Santa's visits to the house on the hill were fun and funny to the adults, but to us children, he was real. He was faithful. He was kind. Belief in Santa Clause taught us to hope, to trust, to believe in things unseen, undeserved, unconditional. That belief readied tender hearts to unquestionably accept Jesus. Jesus, one unseen, but very present; one unconditionally offering everlasting life, the ultimate gift, to an undeserving child. But, you must believe.
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