Matthew 2:1
Well, at least it was the best Christmas since the actual birth of Jesus. Had my brother and I been older, we would have been able to read the signs and understand the reason it was special.
The first clue was when Mother took me to the window at Carp's Department Store and had me pick any doll I wanted. She took me in to buy it, but we were told they were all sold but the broken one on display.
Later, I was dust mopping my Mother's bedroom floor and the mop met an obstruction. It was the doll. I didn't tell my parents I had spoiled the lovely surprise by looking in the box. The clerk, a friend of Mother's, had called when someone failed to pick up a lay away. As Christmas approached, my Dad bought chocolate hay stacks, his favorite Christmas candy. He hung a bright red peignoir set on the floor lamp near the tree -- an occasional gift he liked to get for Mom.
Christmas Eve, Bill and Elizabeth came over to play pinochle for match sticks. At the appropriate time, my grandparents and Uncle wandered across the alley with the traditional wicker basket full of gifts. We were sent to bed to wait for Santa.
About 4:00 in the morning, we were awakened by a train whistle running through our bedroom. Two little kids (my Dad and another uncle) were sitting in the bedroom floor playing with the train Santa had left for my little brother.
I wiped the sleep from my eyes and found my doll and her new wardrobe tucked in bed beside me. My Mom and Aunt had been busy making her clothes.
We had our usual Christmas dinner, complete with all the trimmings. It was a very happy day. But, you know what was really best about it? The war was finally over and our family had all come home okay.
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