Christmas Childhood Memory

Christmas, my Daddy, work extra for the woman who owned the farm so he would have money to buy presents. On Christmas Eve, when he went to get paid she was gone, she went to spend Christmas with her daughter. That was the first time I had heard my Daddy cry.

When we got up on Christmas morning there were no presents to open. When they told us what had happened we understood, mainly because we knew how upset they were. Our Grandpa, the preacher, came later in the day with oranges and coloring books that had been brought to the church for the needy. At that time we sure were needy but we had a good dinner. The next day the woman returned home and paid Daddy like it was any other day not caring what she had done to him on Christmas Eve. Then Mother and Daddy went shopping. We got the most beautiful dolls I had ever seen. Maybe it was because of what had happened that were more grateful for having them.

Every Christmas after that one was more special to us.

Betty Jones