Finding Christmas
Posted: Wednesday, December 23, 2009
by Edwina Frazier
Partners In Success
Two days before Christmas - 1967
My sisters, A.J. and Connie and I stare, like wide-eyed puppies, at the swirling tufts of glistening snow piling up on the ledge of our 4th story apartment bedroom window. Our bed was pushed up against the wall and we three were kneeling on it with our chins resting on the inside window sill; transfixed by all that whiteness. It wasn't that we'd never seen snow before; it snowed regularly in our north east section of Jersey but in the urban city of Newark, where we lived, snow didn't stay white for long. By the next day our view of it would be sooty gray mounds pushed to the sides of the curb. Even the snow on the window ledges would eventually be covered with black ash from the surrounding tenement furnaces.
Looking down the hall, I could see that the bathroom door was open Mommy wasn't in there. I passed my brother's room. He was on his hands and knees with his friend Phil from the 2 nd floor playing with his Tonka trucks; neither one of them looked up. I rounded the corner of the hall and could hear the sound of water running and my mother's voice talking to someone. I headed to the kitchen and peeked in. The mustard yellow phone cord was stretched from the mounted base on the wall all the way over to the sink where my mother stood, her back towards me, with the kitchen phone cradled on her shoulder washing up the lunch dishes. I stood close to the side of the stove where she wouldn't easily see me if she happened to glance around. I wanted hear who she was talking to. If it was my grandmother, who lived down south, then that was a long distance call and it would be short. But if it was my Aunt, who lived on the 3 rd floor, then she might be on for a while. Right now, she was intently listening to her caller while deftly swishing sudsy water into the plastic cups we'd drank our Kool-Aide out of at lunch. School was out and Christmas was two days away but my mother still kept us on a tight schedule. There was a time to get up, a time to get washed and dressed and a set time to eat and take naps. Mommy always had such a precise way of doing things. From the way she snapped' my baby sister's cloth diapers when she folded them to the way she parted my hair exactly down the middle before tightly cornrowing two thick braids on either side of my head.
" Barbara I knew that would happen!" My mother's voice broke through my wandering thoughts. " Didn't I tell you she was going to leave him?" I knew then, that she had to be talking to my Aunt and they were discussing their favorite soap opera. This definitely would be a long call. I tip-toed out the kitchen and eased back down the hall to the bedroom. A.J. and Connie immediately turned towards me with questioning eyes. "She's on the phone with Aunt Barbara." I whispered and started closing the door. " Don't close that door!" Connie hissed. "She'll know something's up if the door is closed." Connie was 15 months younger than I but she was slicker. If anybody knew how to stay out of trouble it was her so I left the door open and rejoined my sisters on the bed.
A.J. gave the starting command. "OK. Let's do it." Connie looked over her shoulder before quickly sliding a plastic cereal bowl and spoon from under the pillow. "OK, Toni," A.J. directed. "Lift on your side and I'll lift on mine." We slowly slid the wood framed window up about an inch and half and held it in position. Connie slid her skinny hand through the opening and began spooning snow from the ledge into the bowl. She worked quickly, careful to get only the top layer that had just fallen. "That's enough." A.J. said after 10-12 good seconds. She and I eased the window back down then the three of us turned our attention to our confiscated delicacy; fresh snow!
Since Connie had the spoon, she dipped in first. A.J and I watched as she brought the 1 st spoonful to her mouth. She'd barely smacked her lips before I snatched the spoon. My Turn! I scooped up a heaping spoonful to the protests of my sisters. "Don't hog it!" I ignored them and pushed the whole spoon in my mouth; brain freeze was immediate but the frozen coldness against my tongue made it worthwhile. I grabbed my head as I passed the spoon to A.J. "That's what you get." A.J smirked. "You shouldn't have taken so much." A.J. sampled a dainty portion in her small mouth. This didn't surprise us. A.J. didn't open her mouth wide for anything; not to speak, brush her teeth or even cry. She smiled a satisfied grin after swallowing. " Hmmm. The first snow is always the best snow!" Connie and I nodded in agreement. The bowl went around two more times before it became an empty memory. We knew better than to try for a second helping; even without a clock we knew it had to be almost nap time. As if on cue, we heard Mommy's voice telling Phil he had to go home now. Since Billy was the "knee baby" (next to last child) he got put down for his nap first. Connie jumped up and ran to the closet to hide the bowl and spoon. Later, it would be her job to get it back to the dish pantry. A.J and I picked up our Barbie's and began playing. Connie climbed back on the bed with her Teddy and leaned against the pillows watching us. After a moment she said, "You might as well lay down you know Mommy's coming in here next." I looked at A.J. and we both rolled our eyes. Lay down? Before we had to? Humph!
That would be like not getting a taste of the first snow!
This memory along with so many others from my childhood is where I find the Christmas spirit. I couldn't tell you what we got for Christmas that year in 1967 but I keenly remember the first snow of the season that happened two days before. I hear a lot of folks complain about not being in the "Christmas Spirit" and I too have felt that way at times but then I pull out a memory and make a decision to make a new one for this year.
Remember it's the celebration of good times and memories that really make the season. So, don't sweat it if the turkey's not perfect or the house isn't quite like you'd like it to be. If you think back to your own childhood Christmas' it wasn't so much the presents under the tree that you remember, it' the memories and the great feeling those memories evoke. So, go make a memory and have a wonderful holiday season and a blessed New Year!
2007
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Top-level comments on this article: (1 total)Beautifully written memories of snow (you can have ours right now) and childhood! Enjoyed reading this very much. Marijo (Mary Jo)
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