My grandmother, Flossie Metzler, had the most wonderful imagination when it came to traditions, especially at Christmastime. She made certain that Christmas Eve was the most exciting night of the year for her grandchildren. She would even go outside in the cold night on Christmas Eve just to jingle some bells, so that we would know for sure that Santa had arrived with his sleigh. My grandparents had no fireplace for the jolly man in red, but somehow that didn’t matter. My brother and I had more than enough imagination to fill in the gaps. I’m sure we fell asleep dreaming of sugar plums and reindeer and, of course, Old St. Nick with his bundle of toys! That is, if we ever slept at all.
Long before video cameras were popular my father would record our Christmas mornings on cassette tapes. The tearing of paper, the squeals of delight, and hopefully the thank yous, were all recorded there. Decades later I still have those tapes tucked away in a box. This holiday season I think I’ll dig them out of the closet and share a few childhood Christmas memories with my own children.
Rarely does Houston get snow, and it’s even rarer for us to be gifted with a white Christmas. But a few years ago flakes began to fall all around our city on Christmas Eve. In nearby towns even more of the white fluffy stuff was reported. So, the next morning after our family had opened our presents and eaten our big meal we drove to the deepest snow we could find. We laughed and played until we’d had our fill. It was one of those serendipity Christmas days that will never be forgotten.
Merry Christmas!
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