Memories

“The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hope that St. Nicholas soon would be there…” ended the story.

“Tell us what’s a stocking.”

“What’s a chimney?”

“Who is St.Nicholas?”

“Ah, so many questions. These are items from long ago, in a place far, far away. The land of the icicle and the green fir wreath, the land of winter snow.”

Father spoke softly to the small ones, rolled them into their covers. “Now it is time to close those eyes and rest.”

Lumens were dimmed as father joined the others.

“I fear they’ll never know the joy we had in the old life. The joy of holiday,” he whispered to those gathered.

“I miss ribbons and candy canes.” Janet’s eyes teared up with her memories.

“The snows, so deep you could lose your dog.”

“And your socks would get wet from snow in your boots…”

“Wet wool mittens…”

“Bruises from falling when skating…”

“I remember running into a tree on a sled.” Harry showed everyone his nose that still had a bump in the middle.

“Can we gather those memories for a night? Would we be allowed?”

All the friends huddled all night, whispered low, lumens at a minimum.

The next evening, Father gathered the small ones, then ushered them into the gathering room. All sat around the old ones.

“We have a surprise for you all. We wanted to show you the holiday we all remember. Are you ready?”

The old ones stood back as instantly the room became alive with memories of Christmas past. Candy canes, stockings by the fire in a chimney, an ice-covered pond, sledding hills, decorated tree, cookies, and sitting in the middle of the room on a big red chair was a fat Saint Nicholas with presents for them all.


W/C 300