Christmas Morning Memories

My most memorable Christmas memory almost ended in tragedy. It's amazing what Christmas excitement can do to make a young boy forget a painful accident.

When I was 9 my oldest brother was 16 and my nearest in age sister, 12. I was the youngster, always getting in the way and a bit whiny too.

But on Christmas morning I was always the first one to sneak into my parents' bedroom and ask if it was Christmas yet. It was always way too early and my parents would moan and groan about the time, but allow me to snuggle up between them.

I would lie there wide awake watching the room slowly fill with light as the sun rose. My Dad's soft snore would irritate me, how could he sleep on such an exciting day? My Mom would cuddle me and tell me to sleep, but it was impossible.

Finally my siblings would filter in and pile onto the king sized bed with me. The tension would mount, the time would tick by like sap running from a frozen tree.

Eventually my Dad would get up, stretch, scratch his backside, slip on a flannel night shirt and amble down the hallway, down the stairs to the kitchen.

The living room was on the way to the kitchen, and that was where our 8 foot Christmas tree sat, it's secret knowledge of Santa Claus safe within the many hand made ornaments and strings of popcorn.

We waited on the edge of the bed, waiting for the magic words my Dad would utter when it was time. As I bounced I could hear him grinding coffee beans, filling the coffee maker with water. Oh the agony, would he ever finish his mundane chore? Come on, it's Christmas!

Finally, when we were at our wits end he'd say the words, "well now...it looks like Saint Nick's been here."

That was our cue, the words that released Christmas. I sprang off the bed like a shot and sprinted down our shag carpeted hallway. When I got to the top of the stairs I lost my footing and tripped.

I launched into space. I instinctively tucked my head and landed halfway down the stairs and rolled the rest of the way. Normally such a fall would have sent me crying into my mother's arms...not today. When I hit the floor I came out of my tuck and continued running toward the lit up Christmas tree.

I slid into the mass of presents and noticed no one was with me. I turned around to find my siblings and Mom still at the top of the stairs with their mouths wide open. What were they doing, were they shocked by the sight of Santa's visit? That must be it.

I screamed in delight as I found my overstuffed stocking and tore into the treasures Santa Claus had brought me.