The year was 1941 and
I was four years old. We lived in Pacolet Mills on a pretty street
called Tightwad. I don’t remember its real name. Nobody ever
called it that anyway. It was always referred to as Tightwad. Nobody
seemed to know why. It was the sort of neighborhood where everybody
knew every body else. It was a great place to be a child.
That Christmas in 1941 on Tightwad is my
earliest memory of Christmas. I did not know it then, but a great
tragedy and disaster had just happened to our country. Just days before,
on December 7, the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor and plunged us into
World War II. All over the USA, and the world, people’s lives were
going to be drastically changed. Many people’s lives were never again
going to be the same.
But I didn’t know. I lived in a nice house
with my brother Dink and my Mama - Marie and my Daddy - Fred (Doog).
I remember the feeling of that Christmas
Eve in 1941. There was an excitement in the air that I did not really
understand. That afternoon, when it began to get dark, I went down
to the church known as Brown’s Chapel just a few hundred yards away.
It was located at the end of Tightwad street. It was a different world
back then with very few cars. I believed I went to church with some
of our neighbors, but I’m not sure.
What I am sure of, is the overwhelming sight
of the first Christmas tree that I can ever remember. We arrived at
Brown’s Chapel and started up the steps of the old wooden church. When I
got to the top of the steps I could see inside the church. There was
the most wonderful sight my young eyes had ever beheld. There was a
towering cedar tree decorated with more lights, ornaments and tinsel than
I knew existed. To this day, when I think about a Christmas tree, that
one at Brown’s Chapel is the one that comes to mind.
I walked on into the church. The closer
I got to the tree the more magical it became. There were mountains of brightly
wrapped presents under the tree. I did not understand about the presents
but they were almost as beautiful as the tree.
I’m sure there was a regular church service
of some sort that night but I do not remember one thing about it.
What I do remember is that after we had been sitting for a long time another
amazing thing happened. The lights of the church were turned down
and the lighted Christmas tree seemed to fill the silent church. Suddenly,
from out of nowhere, this wondrous person appeared. He was unlike
anything I had ever seen. He was wearing a bright red suit and he
had a long white beard. He was big and round and wearing a red hat.
He was magical to me. I did not know who he was but it seemed all
of the other children and adults did. “It’s Santa Claus” they all
whispered loudly.
He was carrying a large sack overflowing
with presents. He walked up beside the Christmas tree and put his
sack down. He started taking the presents from his sack and began
to call children’s names. They came running down the aisles to him
and he gave each their own brightly wrapped package. When he had emptied
the sack, he moved to the tree and its pile of presents. He started
calling out the names on those presents and adults and more children came
up to receive their present directly from Santa’s hand.
I was still somewhat confused by the whole
thing but it did seem like everyone was having a wonderful time. Suddenly,
Santa was calling my name and looking directly at me. I ran up to
the magic tree and got my present. I don’t remember the present but
I surely do the event.
Santa kept on passing out presents until
every boy and girl in the church had one. Then, with the help of other
adults he started handing out large paper sacks filled with oranges and
apples and hard candy and nuts.
Then it was over, the lights of the church
were turned up and everybody started to leave. It was dark and cold outside.
Before I could get to the door I heard someone call my name. It was
Santa Claus! He walked up to me and said “I will walk you home.”
Now, I could see him closely - the beard, the high, shiny black boots, the
fur trim, the red suit, the friendly eyes.
He took me by the hand and we went down the
steps out into the cold, dark night. I can still vividly remember
the walk home. Santa Claus held my hand and talked to me all the way
home. He talked about what I might get for Christmas and what my Mamma
and Daddy might get - and he called them by their name! A passerby
would have seen a very excited small boy holding the hand of Santa and looking
up at him in awe.
Santa Claus walked me all the way to my house.
He knocked on my front door and delivered me right into my Mama’s hands.
It was a magic, magic night.
I’m sure that I got a lot more presents later
that night. But I was an adult before I realized what the real presents
were that cold night. The real presents were a loving family and neighbors,
and a small church where the real spirit of Christmas and giving was very
much alive. The best present of all was the bright memory that still warms
my soul after more than one half a century.
As I got older, my friends
gradually lost their faith in Santa Claus. But I believed. I believe
to this day. Because, long, long ago, Santa Claus held my hand and
we shared a magical walk on a wonderful Christmas Eve.
