Christmas Jingles

During the holidays we tend to think back on special moments at Christmas, memories from our childhood, the wide eyed look on a child's face when they came down to see what Santa brought them. We all remember that one very special Christmas as a child, the year, the gift, everything about it. It is our very special holiday that we will always be able to recall in detail no matter how old we are.

I am no exception to that rule; my most memorable holiday was the Christmas of 1968. We had just moved to a very small town in Arkansas, my parents, my sister, my grandmother and I. I was 9 years old at the time and felt like my entire world had been turned upside down and crosswise. My sister who is 13 years older than I am wanted to make this a special Christmas for me since she knew I was having such a hard time adjusting to this new place. Everything that happened before Christmas morning was told to me years later.

In the wee hours of the morning my sister left the house with a friend of hers. No one knew she had gone out as she had not told my parents what she was going to do. She was gone a few hours with her friend and when they returned they put the gift on the back porch being careful not to wake any one in the house so as not to spoil the surprise.

My sister went into the house to make sure the curtain was pulled across the sliding glass door in case someone woke up through the night they would not see what she had put on the porch. Then she went to the garage to get blankets and boxes so she could shield the porch a little since it had started to snow and she did not want the gift to be ruined by snow or wetness. She thought she would cover it with blankets and flatten the boxes to use as walls around the porch. She carefully covered her surprise and put the walls up around it to keep the snow off. Her friend left as it was Christmas morning and needed to get home herself.

My sister went in to the house and made sure everyone was still sleeping and that she had not woken them with the noise she made on the porch. She grabbed a blanket and laid down on the couch in front of the sliding glass door so she could keep an eye on her gift so nothing happened to it. As the sun came up she drew the curtain across the doorway, turned on the Christmas tree lights and went to make coffee while she waited for every one to wake up.

She heard me telling everyone it was time to get up and my parents shushing me that it was too early and to go back to sleep. My parents and Grandmother came out first and then I bounded into the room to see the tree all lit up with gifts under it from Santa. Every one wished each other a Merry Christmas as I dove into the gifts calling out the names on the packages before I handed them out.

I was sitting on the floor amongst all the wrapping paper when my sister got up and asked me to sit in front of the curtain. My parents looked at each other a little oddly at my sisters request but watched quietly as I did as I was asked. My sister stood at the side of the curtain as she tugged it really hard to open it as fast as she could. She wanted to hear all the ruckus her gift would bring when every one realized what was on the porch. I remember hearing my Mother and Grandmother gasp and my Father laughing so loudly as I realized that there in front of my very own eyes a pony with a giant red bow was staring me right in the face! I was so excited I ran out the door to see if the pony was real. I was jumping up and down in the snow in bare feet not even realizing I was standing in snow. My sister was standing there crying as she watched me and hoping my parents would not be too angry at our new found family member. I asked if the pony had a name and she told me no that I had to name him. When I asked if I could ride him she helped me climb on his back and walked me around the yard in my nightgown and bare feet for my very first ride. As we walked I could hear this sound and I looked around and realized it was the halter on the pony's head that was making the sound. When we got back to the porch my sister helped me off and I gave her the biggest hug I could manage and told her I wanted to call the pony Jingles since that was the sound he made. She hugged me for a while and told me that Jingles sounded like a great name for such a fine little pony.

I kept Jingles company on the back porch most of that Christmas day. In fact, Jingles and I were best friends for years. That day, I got what most kids ask for but do not get Christmas morning. It still brings a big smile to my face remembering just how special that morning was all those years ago.