You’ll laugh. You’ll cry. And you’ll remember what the magic of Christmas holds for a child.
All of that can be found in the 28-page “Holiday Greetings” in today’s issue.
The news team and I acted as Santa’s elves over the past few weeks by typing up this year’s Santa letter gems. We do not possess Santa’s gift of omnipotence, so there may be places we’ve misinterpreted. But The Big Guy assured me he knows what each and every letter says, regardless of our mere mortal foibles.
Christmases with my siblings and cousins are among my warmest memories. There were so many of us. I still marvel at the agility my parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles handled us.
My grandparents’ house in Fentress County was a child’s paradise. Built and designed by my grandfather, it was a family project that was coming to completion when I was born.
Outside, there were barns and abandoned livestock sheds that made ideal playhouses and forts.
Pine trees offered shading, and we girls took to raking up the fallen needles and lining them up in neat rows to create “rooms” for the playhouses we created beneath them.
Inside, like we were during the holidays, we ran from room to room with energy bubbling over. We’d already had Christmas at our homes, and we had our lists of what Santa brought down to an art for sharing. We also theorized as to when he came into the house, how he got there, and why we didn’t hear him.
With so many of us, the Christmas tree was packed full of gifts. Even these many years later, I’ve never seen a pile of gifts to match the ones that lay underneath the tree that my grandfather begrudgingly tolerated for the week of Christmas.
My grandparents’ tree, though it stayed up for one short week, was one of the most beautiful I’ve seen. My grandmother had excellent taste in ornaments. Today, one of those tiny ornaments holds an esteemed place on my own tree.
We tore into the gifts after dinner. Exclamations of delight followed. And while we played with what Santa had brought to Grandma’s house, Mom and the aunts took down the tree.
Grandpa had had enough. He gave it a week. It was time to get his front room back.
Today, many of the people who were in that house long ago are spending Christmas in heaven. My immediate family from those days is down to my brother and me.
At some point in the next few days, I’ll have Christmas with my daughter, my niece and her husband. We’ll do game night and enjoy one another’s company.
Just yesterday, one of the cousins took to Facebook to share photos of her family having Christmas.
The photos included a tree piled high with gifts. Children gleefully tearing into what Santa left early, then playing with what had been concealed by colorful wrappings.
Her house is Grandma’s house now.
Those childhood Christmases are incredible. Enjoy the wonderment with your little guy and/or gal, and cherish your loved ones, both little and big.
Merry Christmas!
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Cheryl Duncan is editor of the Crossville Chronicle. She can be reached at cduncan@crossville-chronicle.com or 931-484-5145.