Robert was
squirming to get out of bed long before anyone else was awake on Christmas Day
that year. His wish to see what Santa had brought bordered on anxiety. When he
heard his mother gathering dishes in the kitchen, he threw back the heavy
covers and raced to the living room to be sure that Santa had left presents.
Robert’s eyes grew round as saucers when he confirmed that Santa had paid a
visit during the mysterious night of nights. Next, he sprinted to the kitchen.
“Shhh!” his
mother said with her forefinger to her lips. “You’ll wake Grandpa!” The way the
rooms of the house were arranged, Robert had run through his parents’ bedroom
to get to the kitchen. He had dashed past Grandpa Rhode, who looked so much
like Joe that Robert had assumed it was his father asleep in the bed.
“Santa
came!” Robert exclaimed in a spluttering whisper.
“He did?”
Ida responded, while she prepared fresh side meat for frying. Even though
Robert preferred side meat to bacon, he could not be bothered to notice that
side meat was on the morning’s menu. He was too excited to find out what Santa
had brought him.
“Go back
and put on your slippers!” his mother said quietly but emphatically. “You’ll
catch your death of cold.”
Robert was
prone to head colds with ear aches, so he took his mother’s command with extra
seriousness. He tiptoed back to the room that he shared with Charles and put on
his slippers before tiptoeing to the kitchen and resuming his conversation.
“I wonder
what Santa brought me!” Robert said to his mother.
“Shouldn’t
you be wondering what Santa brought everyone,”
Ida prompted.
Robert
understood that he was being selfish. “I do
wonder what Santa brought everyone,” he acknowledged. “When can we open the
presents?”
“You’ll
have to wait ‘til after breakfast,” his mother said.
Robert was
uncertain he could delay so long as that. For a moment, his face registered his
dismay. Then he took joy in watching his mother creating biscuits from a mound
of flour. Soon, the fragrances of baking and frying filled the kitchen. When
Robert heard his grandfather roll over, he considered whether he might have
awakened the family’s guest, but, when Grandpa Rhode suddenly snored loudly,
Robert felt less guilty.
Robert
wondered how Charles could be so calm as to remain in bed when there were
presents to unwrap and fun to experience. Almost as if he were talking to
himself, Robert shook his head. All at once, he realized that his father was
sleeping on the sofa that squeezed between the heating stove and the kitchen
table. Say, rather, trying to sleep
amid the commotion! Joe sat up, yawned, and gradually pulled on his trademark
blue overalls—right over his pajamas. Carrying his socks and other garments, he
stepped inside the bathroom and closed the door.
The house
was one of the first in town to have a bathroom with indoor plumbing. By now,
the fixtures were antiquated, and the room was impossibly small. A person
almost had to suck in the breath to shut the door. Robert heard his father
bumping the walls of the bathroom while he dressed. Eventually, Joe struggled
to open the door and slipped past it. He was wearing his customary farming
clothes and was carrying his pajamas neatly folded over one arm.
“Robert, go
get dressed,” his mother said. “Get Charles up and tell him to get dressed,
too. We’re about ready to eat.”
“Had I
better wake Grandpa?” Joe asked Ida.
“We’re
going to eat soon, so I suppose you might,” Ida replied.
Robert
walked quickly past his sleeping grandfather, returned to his room, and shook
his brother. “Get up!” he ordered.
Robert
wriggled out of his pajamas and into his flannel shirt and jeans. He was so
excited that he had extra trouble tying his shoes.
By the time
Robert came back to the kitchen, his parents had moved the sofa perilously
close to the heating stove so that everyone could sit around the kitchen table.
Wearing a white shirt, a green tie, and gray slacks, Grandpa Rhode took the
chair Ida offered him. With a yawn and a big smile, Charles sat down next.
Soon, everyone was ready for Joe to say grace.
“As we
gather together this Christmas Day,” Joe began, “we remember the Christ child,
the greatest gift of all. Lord, we ask thy blessing on this food and the hands
that prepared it. We promise to keep the spirit of Christmas alive in our
hearts throughout the year.”
Then there
came platters of steaming biscuits, glistening side meat, and scrambled eggs.
At each place setting was a half an orange—a real treat at Christmas! The
biscuits were slathered in homemade butter and piled high with Ida’s jellies
and jams. It was a feast fit for a king—with the promise of more only a few
hours later!
Robert
waited politely until the adults were finished eating breakfast—so slowly, it
seemed to him!
“Well,
should we open our presents?” Joe asked, finally!
Robert
jumped down from his chair and practically ran into the living room. His
parents and Grandpa Rhode came, eventually!
Robert sat
near the Christmas tree, which scented the room with the lovely fragrance of
pine. He took mental snapshots of the bubble lights and the ice bulbs. The
ornaments were often doubled: one that was designated his and one that was
designated his brother’s. The largest globes hung from the bottom branches. A
large one with bands of magenta was Charles’ ornament, and a similar one with
stripes of blue was Robert’s. At the top of the tree were tiny ornaments that
had been on Joe’s first trees in the late teens and early 1920s. There were
tiny bells and clusters of grapes made of glass. The oldest, Joe always said,
was a delicate ornament with slender white and blue and cranberry-colored beads
strung in a diamond shape.
Joe began
to hand out presents. Suddenly, the room filled with the sounds of rustling paper
and exclamations of surprise. Robert and Charles’ grandfather and father
received new ties and monogrammed handkerchiefs. The boys’ mother modeled her
new robe and pocketbook. Robert and Charles had a variety of toys, but the two that
really caught their eye were relatively large, heavy police cars to which
flexible tubes could be attached. Their hands held battery packs that were at
the ends of the tubes. By pushing buttons on the battery packs, they could make
the cars roll along the carpet. A light in the center of the roof of each car
flashed red, and a siren whirred. The police cars were Grandpa Rhode’s gift to
the boys. He always gave the best presents!
No one
could have been happier that Christmas!
Later that
morning, Grandma Rhode and Great Aunt Margaret brought gifts and received
theirs in turn before joining the family for “dinner,” as the noon meal was
called. And what a magnificent dinner it was! The table was laden with soft yeast
rolls made of flour that had been rising all night, ham, peas, carrots, corn,
and every good thing that Ida had canned from her garden! Despite having eaten
a huge breakfast, the family dug into the dinner with a will. Grandma Rhode and
Grandpa Rhode spoke politely to one another but said relatively little directly
to each other. They had been divorced for many years. Robert had not been told
that fact, but he might not have understood it anyway. All he knew was that
Grandma Rhode lived in a small house in town while Grandpa Rhode lived eighty miles
away in Indianapolis. Later, Robert learned that his mother had told his father
to make amends with his father so that the boys’ grandfather could take an
active role in their lives. From Robert’s point of view, everything was exactly
as it should be!
With his
capacity for memorization, Robert took a long look around the table. It was as
if he were a camera recording every detail in photographs that he would cherish
many years from now. He wanted to be able to recall the happy faces, the
laughter, the sunlight glinting from the glassware, the pattern of the china,
the way the freshly ironed tablecloth fell in pleats across his knees.
In the
window near Ida’s rocking chair hung a crinkly red cellophane wreath with a
silver socket resembling a candle and a single orange bulb glowing. In his
thoughts and feelings, Robert compared the wreath with the circle of his family
around the dinner table and the orange light with the joy they shared. He
wished he could express his analogy to everyone, but he lacked the words. He
remained content to notice the correspondence on such an important day.
This captures the excitement we all felt at the holiday when we were young!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Eleanor! Coming from a writer such as you, your compliment is deeply appreciated.
DeleteI'm really enjoying your stories, Robert. I've written several stories of my own but none as thorough. Your cousin, Sally, and I have recently completed answers to a series of questions that were designed to make us write down our memories and we really enjoyed the results. Perhaps she'll share them with you.
ReplyDeleteCousin Sally speaks so highly of you that I pay close attention to what you write. I am delighted that you are enjoying the stories at the heart of the chapters comprising my "blog novel"! I hope both of you will share your memories!
Delete