A CHRISTMAS STORY

We hung the lights on the window first, just in case the others gave us trouble, they would still be coming home to a little bit of Christmas spirit.

The tree would go up next. The lights, the ornaments, and underneath the skirt that Grandma had made our parents for their first Christmas. It was one of the greatest treasures we pulled out of the box full of decorations.

This was their 35th Christmas together, and we wanted to make it something special. They had always treasured Christmas the most, so we decided on this way to show our love and appreciation.

We put on the Christmas albums, before starting our work on the tree. It reminded us of all the happy Christmas's we had had together, decorating the tree, singing together as we fussed with tinsel and garland. The atmosphere was immediately cheerier as Andy Williams sang his Hawaiian Christmas tune.

We started sorting through the light strands, pulling the bulbs out, replacing them one by one until we had victory over the burned out bulb, the strand lighting up the floor with multicolored blips of light. To our horror, one strand started winking, a sure sign we had replaced a bulb with a blinker. Giggling, we discussed where a blinking strand of lights could go, no one wanting to start this process over again. Deciding on the Bathroom doorway as the funnest place to install them, the eldest headed down the hall. towing the lights behind, armed with thumbtacks and tape.

Humming and singing, we started to wind the lights around the tree, using Mom's favorite method, piling more lights on the tree than the sky had stars, and then one more strand for good measure. This tree would light the house morning till night for the next few weeks, so we were careful to avoid leaving even one square inch without a bit of color shining in it.

Armed with Hot Chocolate, we had our usual heated debate on the best way to hang the silver garland. Ideas from hanging loops to vertical stripes were championed by each of us, until we finally agreed that Dad's way was the way to go this year.

The ornaments were pulled out of the box next... each one a memory, each one lovingly preserved in last years toilet paper. It seemed that no matter how we persuaded, mom insisted that toilet paper would keep them safest, and none of our methods could compare in her eyes.

We took turns hanging the ornaments, just as we had since we were kids... careful to space them properly just as mom liked. Some wooden Santas with missing arms, rocking horses without riders, and slightly chipped plaster ornaments were hung with as much care as we would have used were they made of Italian glass. The cardboard handprints, cotton ball snowmen, and macaroni angels were hung with the greatest care, having been made by each of us in our school years.

The angel tree topper was the only new thing on the tree. The last one had fallen off last year when one of the grandchildren had wanted to taste the snowman hanging just out of reach. The new one was similar to the last, only on this one all of the lights worked.

The skirt went under the tree with care, all of us mindful how fragile it was, and how priceless. It was multicolored like a quilt, many little swatches cut into triangles and squares, making up a colorful background to the wording sewn on top. The verse from the Bible a deeply rooted truth for all of us. We each looked at this treasure, touching the letters and smiling at the thought of our own she had made for us for our first Christmas's after marriage.

We hurried now, putting up the paper mache Santa, the lighted village on the angel hair, that done cautiously with a pair of tweezers nearby. The picture over the mantle came off, and the wreath going up in its place. The garland we had left over hanging now over doorways throughout the house. smaller strands of lights along the mantle, and small electric candles in each window.

Finally finished, we gazed around our childhood home with satisfaction. This was just how we remembered the house looking every Christmas. Luckily it hadn't taken all of us long to complete our tasks, because just then we saw their car pull up in the driveway.

We stood together, arms around waists and shoulders, grinning madly as we waited for them to open the door. Petty differences and uneasy feelings between us had gone as we united in love for our parents. Taking time out of our busy schedules to spend this time together had reforged the bonds that had weakened with distance and day to day living.

They came in the door in awe, looking around the transformed livingroom, our mom with tears in her eyes, our father trying unsuccessfully to hide his happiness. trying to fluff it off, always the macho man in front of "the kids." Our eyes tearing over, the hugs were plentiful, the laughter rich with joy and deep love for each other.

I think that is when we realized that in giving them this gift, we had gifted ourselves .....and given us all another cherished Christmas memory.

by MA