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SARA’S THIRTEENTH CHRISTMAS
By
Dorothy Seyller
“No doll this year. You’re too old.” Sara laughed. Knowing they couldn’t afford to give her anything else, she made sure to always ask for one.
“You say that every year,” she said hurrying to help Mother with supper.
As she set the table for Mother, Sara remembered last Christmas Eve when she had wakened to voices and bustling in the living room. Raising on one elbow, Sara saw men, apparently from Father’s work, carrying boxs of gifts and food; placing them under the tree. She had felt happy for her folks and the other children, but a little sad too. It was embarrassing to have strangers provide their Christmas gifts.
The next evening, Sara helped Mother with supper. Plates from long discarded sets of dishes and a blue checkered tablecloth, gave the table a confused picnic-like setting. Sometimes she pretended it was a picnic; when she was feeling just a little envious of her friends who had matching dishes in their cupboards. Tonight though, she was content listening to Tex Ritter and Gene Autry on the radio and to be with Mother, Father and the other children.
At times it was hectic having five younger children around but, most days Sara was good help for Mother and enjoyed caring for the little ones. Everyone knew she was good with babies. Several neighbors counted on her to baby-sit.
For days Sara had talked of Christmas and the doll she would get, while deep down, trying to ignore a vague feeling of dissatisfaction. For some reason, she could not become excited about a doll this year. What was wrong? She loved Christmas! She thought of dolls
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from other lands. Maybe she would like one of those. No, that wasn’t what she wanted. A bride doll maybe? But it seemed such a waste to stand a doll on a bed or in a chair and leave it.
Maybe a doll was not what she wanted. What were the other girls asking for? Most of their parents could afford bigger, better dolls and other nice gifts.
Last year, the first day back at school had been hard for Sara and her brothers; Bobby seven, Phil nine and Joey eleven.
“What did you get for Christmas?” their teachers had asked them.
“I got a big baby doll and clothes for her,” Sara had said. She’d made the inexpensive doll sound just a little nicer than it had been. Later she learned Joey had lied, and told his class he had received a big, expensive pocket knife he had been admiring for weeks. Would she be tempted to lie this year?
After supper Mother and Sara washed, dried and put away the dishes, before putting the little ones to bed. Now she could read a book by the kerosene lamp before going to bed herself.
While she got into her long, white, flannel gown with tiny pink flowers, Mother wrapped a hot, red brick, taken from the back of the woodburning stove, in a newspaper and a heavy towel, slipping the warm bundle under Sara’s blankets where her feet would be. Barefooted and shivering, she jumped into bed and settled her feet in the warmth.
“If you get cold during the night, pull your coat over you legs. Someday we’ll have enough heavy blankets,” Mother sighed.
Sara said her prayers and lay thinking about the events of the past several days. Who had drawn her name last week for the Christmas party? She dared not hope it was Wesley. Tall, handsome Wesley never saw
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her.
Drifting off to sleep, she jumped when Mother called, “Sara! Sara! It’s time to get up. Hurry,
today is your last day before Christmas Vacation.” Flying around, she was ready earlier than usual.
She thought the day would never end. None of the children could concentrate. Finally in the afternoon,
their teacher gave up and let them play games.
Home at last she ate quickly then hurried to get ready for the school’s biggest and best party of the year.
Mother had felt bad when she could not buy Sara a new dress. This one, from a cousin who had outgrown it was very pretty. She loved the deep red color, the puffed sleeves and ruffle around the neck.
“No one at school has seen it,” she told Mother. “I’ll just pretend it’s new.”
“You look good in red. We’ll fix your hair different; make it especially pretty,” Mother told her. “You’ll be the prettiest girl there.”
Checking the mirror, Sara saw she did look pretty. She was finally going to the biggest party of the year!
“Hurry Father! We can’t be late!” Father laughed as they drove off. The trip seemed longer than it had this morning. Feeling the cold, she pulled her coat tighter around her, but not tight enough to crush the ruffle.
Entering the building she felt a twinge in her stomach. Just like this morning. She couldn’t be sick tonight!
“I’ll pick you up at ten. Have good time, Princess,” Father said, kissing her goodbye.
Inside several friends converged upon her.
“I love your dress! “Thank you.” She could have
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kissed Aunt Janice for the dress.
Eyes sweeping the drafty, old gymnasium, Sara marveled at the change. Could this be where she played basketball just this morning?
In one corner stood the largest, fullest, most beautiful Christmas tree she had ever seen, spot lighted by red and green lights.
“It’s like a fairy land,” she whispered. “Mary look at all the lights and shiny balls! I have never seen such a wonderful tree with so many gifts under it.” Tonight was sure to be very special.
“I almost forgot, this is your first Christmas here,” Mary laughed, remembering all the previous schools she had attended.
“It’s like this every year.”
Soon everyone gathered around the piano to sing Christmas Carols. Huge pots of red and white poinsettias rested on the long, snowy white linen cloth covering the old piano; hiding scars left from many years of puppy love. More than one young man had carved “Peter loves Allison” or “John loves Marge” on its once shiny top. Mingled with these, were several white rings, left by vases and jars used to hold flowers for other parties over the years.
Sara joined in the singing, unaware of those around her, trying to sort out her feelings. She could never tell Mother and Father she didn’t really want a doll this year. She didn’t know what she wanted. For years her parents managed to give each child a small toy and one article of much needed clothing. The older children made trinkets or toys for the younger ones. This year, Sara had worked hard to make something different and fun for each of them, and looked forward
to seeing them opened.
What would her sisters ask for when they were
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thirteen? Would they still want dolls? Would they ask for one when they really wanted something else?
Santa Claus entered the room, passing out gifts. Sara sat quietly watching everything; looking for Wesley who was nowhere in sight.
“Ho! Ho! laughed Santa as he handed Sara a beautiful silver box wrapped with a red ribbon and a huge red bow. She hated to break the ribbon or tear the paper.
Carefully unwrapping the box, Sara saw Wesley across the room. With sparkling eyes she held up a beautiful white scarf with tiny purple flowers. “It’s just what I have been wanting,” she whispered as she read the card; “Merry Christmas: Wesley” Smiling, she mouthed “Thank you,” at Wesley, who smiled in return.
Quickly Wesley moved to the piano where the others were gathering for more carols before breaking up and heading home.
Happily, Sara sang the last carol with the others. Life was fun, and surprising at times. Just then Wesley moved closer, smiling at her.
Now Sara knew why she had felt uneasy about getting a doll for her thirteenth Christmas. She was growing up. She knew she what she really wanted. A new party dress; one bought for her alone and maybe some new ribbons for her hair. She must look her best. Wesley knew she was alive.
“But I’d better ask Mother and Father for a doll anyway,” she told herself with a smile.
arkling eyes she held up a beautiful white scarf with tiny purple
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This an excellent story reminescent of christmas' gone bye. A great coming of age story. I highly reccommend it.
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