The Day the Grinch Stole Grandma

Mildred usually rested during her Christmas shopping trip to the Uptown Mall if only to watch the ice skaters. The scene at the mall was as Christmassy as a Norman Rockwell painting. Green garland, decorated with twinkling lights, draped over the railings that surrounded all three levels of rink viewing. A huge poinsettia Christmas tree ceremoniously held court in the center of the ice. The skaters floated, flitted and sometimes fell around the tree. Mildred watched with an irritation she had never before experienced while Christmas shopping. Over the loudspeakers, while holiday music blared, Mildred's eyes filled with salty tears and she sank deeper into herself.

For nearly all her married-mother life, Mildred T. Shearer created the wonderfulness of the Christmas season for her family. She alone was responsible for the memory making. Was it a good or great Christmas? The answer depended on the extent to which Mildred shopped, wrapped, cooked and fussed over her family. Now, sixty-eight years old, Mildred was tired. She loved her children and loved their children. There was no question about that. No, Mildred could not be accused of losing interest in her family-only in working so hard at Christmas.

Her eyes wandered above the ice rink and she saw a blurry vision of holiday shoppers. Lots of young mothers, some pushing strollers, others gripping lists and packages, paraded across the mezzanine and upper balconies. Mildred recalled the many years of prototyping that same behavior. Drop off kids at school, drive to mall, shop, return home, hide packages, start dinner, sit in pick-up line at school, and greet kids. It was fun, then, wasn't it? Mildred smiled to herself, because with youth and vigor coursing through her in her twenties and thirties, it was all fun. Somehow, her heart felt lighter now. She closed her eyes, meditated on a prayer of gratitude for all her blessings - past, present and future. She can do this, she thought, at least for one more year. She can do this with God's help. She will make a wonderful Christmas season for everyone depending on her. There will be gifts and trees, but there will also be love and the Light of Christ on earth.

Mildred squirmed uncomfortably on the wooden bench. Would it kill mall management to place a few comfortable chairs in the mall? The benches had no backs to rest against, so Mildred's lower back ached not unexpectedly. She sighed heavily, stood tall, stretched her spine, rotated her shoulder blades and marched on.