“Where are you Christmas? Do you remember the one you used to know? I’m not the same one. See what the time’s done. Is that why you have let me go? “
– Where Are You Christmas, Faith Hill
Take a moment and close your eyes. Take a deep even breathe and picture it, picture Christmas. Go ahead. I’ll wait.
Now, how old were you in that picture? For me I was maybe about ten. It’s nighttime in the living room of my house in North East, Pennsylvania. I’m sitting on the deep green velvet couch that we never sat on because it was one of the good sofas, in a living room that never got lived in because it was for company. But I’m sitting here because the living room was where we put our tree each year.
Our tree was our family history, each ornament held a story. Those nights with nothing but those foggy lights to see in the darkness because I’m old and this was before the crisp, clear glean of LED. The smell was of the tree which was always a real tree. The sound was the Manneheim Steamroller’s Christmas albums playing on CD. (Like I said, old) I don’t think I’ve ever been so at peace.
Over the years the houses have changed. The tree us no longer real and I solely responsible for its decoration. The hardest part of it all was trying to recapture that feeling. I love Christmas but for years and years and years I’ve struggled to find it. I’m one of those annoying people who gets out the tree the first weekend in November. Each year a bit earlier giving myself more time to find that feeling of Christmas.
This year is Aurie’s second Christmas and the first one she’s actually gotten to interact. She’s walking and talking and now I’m no longer the only one decorating. But I want to give her that same Christmas magic. I was on a mission to give my daughter Christmas and I’m so blessed that the people of Foley were willing to do so much to help.
We had the opportunity to ride in the Foley Christmas Parade with the Coastal Alabama Farmers and Fishermans Market. Armed with a few sets of beads and a small bag of Dum Dums, Aurie and I sat in the trailer with the beautiful contestants from the Little Miss Harvest pageant.
It didn’t take long for Aurie to learn from the older girls how to toss things out to the crowd and man, did she love it. We do need to do some serious work on the trajectory though. She would enthusiastically launch candy that fell straight down into the garland that wrapped the trailer, which I would carefully pick up and allow her to attempt to launch again.
It was the people who lined the streets that lit up her face. We had run out of goodies to throw within the first couple of blocks but that didn’t seem to matter to anyone. The waves and shouts of “Merry Christmas” were everywhere. And there was my girl waving, jumping up and down, and laughing. I thought this is amazing, maybe this will be her Christmas moment. A far cry from my quiet Christmas feeling, this may be hers.
Little did I know the magic that would be awaiting us the next day. The morning after the parade we headed to Heritage Park early. If you’ve never been to Heritage Park in Foley at Christmastime you are missing out. Lights, a small little Christmas village, trees decorated by area businesses and a massive, massive tree covered in red and gold ornaments. I wanted Aurie to go have some fun, but it was laid back, we weren’t planning on meeting anyone and it was just a chance for some fresh air.
My daughter, now picking out her own clothes, chose the beautifully mismatched floral leggings and polka dot shirt. Not bothering with make up or pants with something more than an elastic waistband we were a pair as we got out of the car and began wandering around the deserted park.
She looked in every little building in the Christmas village. Closely inspected, though needed some reminding not to touch, each of the beautifully decorated trees. Then we headed to the gazebo where Santa had greeted kids during a city event a few nights before. Aurie made sure to point out to me each of the singing bears dressed up.
Then it happened. Like that point in Twas the Night Before Christmas, Aurie dashed over to the railing and started babbling and pointing. I looked up and just beyond the gazebo, on the sidewalk there he was. It was Santa. I froze. There weren’t any events advertised that I knew of. It was 9 a.m. on a Sunday. All the fun had been the Friday before. But there was Santa and Mrs. Clause chatting with two little kids and their parents on the sidewalk.
They made their way up into the gazebo and over to a massive chair, smiling at Aurie and waving. We had been to see Santa in late November and folks let me tell you I have never seen my daughter completely freak out like that ever. I have a wonderful picture of Santa sitting next to me while I try and suppress a laugh with my daughter is in my arms her mouth wide open in a scream.
This time she slowly worked her way closer and closer to the patient Clause couple. They encouraged her, smiled, asked what she wanted for Christmas. Eventually we worked our way close enough for a picture. We smiled for the camera as we were, relaxed in clothing that didn’t even hint at a holiday theme and hair that had been touseled from play and wind. There, in that moment, I found Christmas.
I’ll never know if Aurie found it too, or if she’ll even remember it but I know it was a moment I will never forget. It wasn’t perfect, posed, or planned. Christmas had creeped up when I had least expected it.
It wasn’t in a darkened living room by the light of the tree. Christmas for me has become the beautifully decorated Heritage Park in the clear morning sunlight. It may have taken me a long time to find it, but take a look around Foley and you’ll find Christmas. Forewarning, be ready for some Christmas magic, you just don’t know who you might run into in this city.
Mom About Town 