By Otis Griffin
When it was close to Santy coming Momma reminded that I must be good or he won’t stop.
At this young age all the kids had been told the same thing by their parents. Remember how you got to thinking, “well I wonder if Santy saw me when I was chasing the chickens?” I didn’t mean to kick the cat either but I couldn’t help it as he got under my feet.
Maybe once I forgot to wash behind my ears before Sunday school, but I hope no one saw me.
I kicked over the oyster shells and didn’t pick them up and Momma wondered why they were scattered so much? Not my fault as the feed trough jumped under my feet. Since none of this was brought up I ‘figgered’ I’m safe.
Years later when Momma, Daddy and I were preparing for Santy coming, little did I realize just how much Christmas meant to them? Daddy got a kick out of reminding me that I needed to go to bed at dark. He said, “I thought this would make Santy come faster.” They said as soon as we finished supper I blurted, “I was sleepy and ready for bed.” They agreed. While reading and sewing Momma reminded back then often I would barely crack the door and peep to check under the still empty tree. No Santy. Of course they just smiled and kept looking busy.
Can you remember how it was impossible to go to sleep waiting on the fat red suit? I’ll admit there were times I was panic afraid that Santy would pass me by.
Momma and Daddy reminded me our first Christmas or so we didn’t have much but a few gifts that consisted mostly of clothes we needed.
Daddy never got too excited on wasting money for toys that were destroyed in a day or three. Buy something like work clothes that you can use for several decades. Some Christmas spirit!
What thrilled Momma promptin’ her famous giggle was after a few hours of peepin’ I would come in with my bottom lip draggin’ the wooden floor and sit at her feet to reassure me Santy would stop. After a hug and kiss I felt better because my Momma said, “yes he will come.” My Momma loved me and wouldn’t tell me a story.
Daddy kept reading his Press-Scimitar newspaper in his easy chair.
He’d slide the paper to the side and remind me that Santy was comin’ but not until I was asleep. “There are a lot kids he has to visit and if you are awake Santy is real smart and won’t come.” Momma said every time I would check the cookies and glass of sweet milk to see if he had taken a small swig and maybe a nibble. Once satisfied I stumbled back to bed.
What was funny to Momma and Daddy, once I was asleep, I couldn’t hear it thunder much less the sleigh bells ringin’ when Santy hit the roof with Rudolph and Bubba.
As hard as I tried not once did I wake up before my parents. They said I would sprint to the living room tree checking each wrapped gift loudly guessing what was hog tied in a certain box. Although I desired certain toys it didn’t really matter now.
The warm morning stove would be roaring with the tree lights flickering as I opened my gifts from Santy. Momma and Daddy reminded me years later, I carefully took the time to explain how each toy worked as if they didn’t know.
Christmas is indeed a special time of year with the gifts and excitement of the little ones still living in a fantasy world.
The hard working, loving parents make all their wishes come true. A time to reflect on the material items we possess, the wonderful friends and family we so dearly cherish.
A time to worship and count our many blessings as we celebrate our Savior’s birth.
Be thankful for what we have and pray for the young folks fighting to protect our country so we may be able to enjoy the above.
However, don’t forget and remember the most important first six letters in Christmas.
That’s what it’s all about…Southern Glory!