As
the holidays come once again, I can’t help but reminisce over childhood
memories. My mother had nine brothers and sisters, so my family was quite
large. The entire family used to gather on Christmas at my grandmother and grandfather’s
home in Eastern Kentucky. My grandparents lived in a very old house heated with
potbelly, coal stoves. By the time Christmas arrived, the real tree they cut
down in the mountains had wilted and turned brown, but the pile of presents
surrounding it was unbelievable. There were never enough beds, so the children,
including myself, slept on the floor. No one had a cell phone or computer. There
was only one television in the house, but no cable. For entertainment we played
in the snow, went ice skating on the frozen creek or listened to stories told
by my aunts and uncles.
On
Christmas eve, we would all gather around the drooping tree while my Grandma
handed out presents. My grandparents were very poor, but they always made sure
they bought something for each grandchild. The grandchildren received one pair
of socks wrapped with love. There were no bows, fancy ribbons or sparkling
nametags, but wrapping paper was so deep in the room we literally waded through
it. I remember my grandparents crying when it was their turn to open presents
because they always had more than anyone. Their children gifted them what they
couldn’t afford for themselves. I would hold my one pair of socks in my hand,
watching them, not knowing how precious that memory would become.
On
Christmas day cookies, fudge and cakes lined the kitchen table, several hams
were baked along with mashed potatoes, green beans, cornbread and sweet
potatoes. With the potbelly stoves full of burning coal and my aunts in the
kitchen cooking, we usually had to open the doors in the house because of the
heat. While my aunts cooked, my uncles would load buckets full of coal and set
them on the front porch, so when we all left my grandma wouldn’t have to carry
in coal from the cold.
Times
have certainly changed over the years. Most of my aunts and uncles have passed
away and my grandparents are gone. The old house was torn down several years
ago and only green grass remains where the house once stood. As I gaze on my
perfect, artificial Christmas tree surrounded with expensive gifts, I’m
thankful, but that thankfulness also comes with a little sadness. As a child, I
laughed at that one pair of socks my grandparents gifted me, but as an adult I
cherish those memories.
One
pair of socks turned out to be the most meaningful gift I’ve ever received.
Kristal Dawn Harris
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18576974.Kristal_Dawn_Harris
