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"Calling Santa"
Modern technology of electronic marvels has unraveled our lives
so as to make them sterile, detached, and unaffected by events
and circumstances. Even a child's letters to Santa is often
processed through telephone calls to the North Pole and an
antiseptic Santa. Not so on the cotton mill village where I
lived in the 1940s.
Everything began happening the first week after Thanksgiving.
It all started when dads began painting porch lights red or
green and leaving it burning for at least an hour after dark.
>From there, the scene moved from the front porch to the local
church.
Every child in every Sunday School Class drew the name of a
friend from a box to buy them a present that did not cost more
than fifty cents. Then, preparations began for the annual
Christmas Eve play.
All this got children in the mood for Christmas, but we knew
Christmas really started when the Sears-Roebuck Christmas
catalog came in the mail. In the evening after school, children
sat before an open coal-burning fireplace with the catalog
cradled in their laps saying, "I want this, no, I want that.
Mamma, Daddy, can I have . . .?
The defining moment came when all decisions about Christmas
wants were made, a list was written on Blue Horse notebook
paper, and the list thrown into the fireplace. You see our
parents told us the smoke took the list straight to Santa
Claus' house at the North Pole.
About two days later, every child in the neighborhood
gathered at church on Christmas Eve to either be in the
Christmas play or watch their friends.
After the play and the Pastor passed out all the presents
the children bought, he knew there would be some children
who did not get a present. To help soften the blow, every
child got a brown paper bag filled with fruit, candy canes,
and nuts. From there, it was home and bed to await Santa
who would bring the presents we sent him on the list in the
smoke. That was Christmas in the cotton mill village in
the 1940s.
Somehow, as primitive as that was, it had a greater sense
of the human touch than calling Santa on the phone or being
processed through a long line to sit on Santa's lap. But
you had to be there to appreciate it.
--Lawrence Brotherton
CAN MONEY BUY HAPPINESS?
http://readnsend.com/c/a/10.htm
Maybe you believe money can...
Maybe you believe it can't
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Cute Sites O' The Day:
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Losing Sight...
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True Authority!
<a href=" http://208.169.219.121/pg1pi28.asp?RG=1&RI=1 ">
Click Here!</a>
I Don't Do Mornings...
http://www.e4joy.com/cgi-bin/ezines/goodstuff.cgi?l=323&d=1&o=22
<a href="
http://www.e4joy.com/cgi-bin/ezines/goodstuff.cgi?l=323&d=1&o=22
">Toon of the day</a>
Because I took a moment to speak
And you took a second to smile
A tiny part of me will leave with you
And a little bit of you will stay
~ Jevan
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