We had left our country home and rented the right side of a duplex next to the railroad tracks in Warren, Ohio. I was just turning seven that year.

Mom and Dad, Cath, me, Susie and Willie. That was the pecking order. Brother Jimmy was nestled warmly inside mom and would not be born until July 19th of the next year. In fact, I wonder now if mom even had told Dad yet of her expectation.

I remember that winter. Cold and snowy. Blissfully unaware of the trouble that had
befallen us, we kids settled in to a new school and routine. The house in the country was lost to the bank, and Mom and Dad were thinking of taking us all to California to start a new life, but it was Christmastime and that was all us Anderson kids were thinking about.

Christmas Eve had come and there at the top of the stairs Mom set up the child gate and we were instructed not to come downstairs. Something was going on that we were not allowed to see. We could hear mysterious rustlings and such and it was just too much for my curious nature, so I climbed over the gate and tip toed slowly down one stair at a time until I was able to peek over the banister and see the scene below. Wrappings and ribbons and boxes and bows! There was a bicycle being assembled. A frenzied effort was being made to get everything under the Christmas tree.

I was scolded and told to go back upstairs. Sister Susie was standing there waiting at the child gate. Her blond curls bobbing up and down on the top of her head, she looked to me, her senior by two years to fill her in on what was happening downstairs.
“Susie, there is no Santa Claus.”

That February we packed up the car with everything we could carry. Most of our Christmas toys were given to a neighbor child. Grandma Keaggy worked at a donut shop and packed us up a big cardboard box full of day old donuts. It was tucked right there in front of me between the seats. I can still smell the maple ones and to this day never ever choose that kind from any donut box. Cathy Lynn insisted on taking her oversized stuffed dog and Dad said she had to sit on it then all the way to California. I carried a picture that I had torn out of a magazine. It was a picture of Joe Louis, the heavyweight boxer, with a big beautiful golden crown on his head. I remember that bothered Dad and he did try to get it from me, but I held onto it, carefully folding it and unfolding it all the way to California.

Yes Susie, there is no Santa Claus but there are kings and probably queens and maybe even some castles out there in California land.

12/05/2004

Posted on 12/05/2004
Copyright © 2024 Mary Ellen Smith