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Everything sparkles! Even the walls and woodwork because Mom could not handle the constant criticism from her overbearing Mother - the wearer of the dreaded "white glove".
Hot strong coffee and thick rich cocoa warmed all chilly comers. Everyone sufficiently thawed, sis and I took heavy coats, woolen scarves and hats, piling them mountainous upon our beds. We finally got to unwrap our presents, sharing an hour of oohs and aahs before dinner was served.
Flashbulbs blinding us from all directions, we endured the picture taking, saying "cheese" until we could taste the Cheddar.
There was a separate rickety old card table for the kids. Childish conversations bored us in-between agers, who yearned to join the grown ups' table. We were admonished to remember starving children, and to maintain our membership in "the clean plate club". Difficult for me if chicken liver was used in the stuffing. Blech.
After we stuffed ourselves royally,the adults adjourned to the living room to talk, smoke, drink eggnog and spiked punch. My big sister and I watched the kidlets, cleared the tables and washed the dishes.
The next day was our additional gift to our folks - cleaning the gaiety aftermath. Stale odors awaited us - spilled whiskey and ash trays overflowing with grey cocoons of ash. Sticky dessert plates with pie and cake crumbs demanded my eager tastebuds. Tempting, sometimes - to taste the sour leavings of all - playing with the cigarette and cigar stubs, while dispatching with the remains of the "Holiday spirits".
The beautiful tree looked sadly pale and droopy without the bubble lights on, with just the morning sun to make the tinsel shimmer. Clothes, gifts and wrappings were strewn everywhere.
We gathered ribbons, bows and wrapping paper - smoothing all best we could, folding and storing in boxes for next Christmas. We cleared everywhere, stuffing all items we considered out of place into paper sacks.
A reality update. Today is Sunday, November 30th - and I have just read a newspaper article about a maintenance man trampled to death at a department store across the Country. The press of the crowd of eager shoppers was so strong, they broke the glass doors, knocked him down and trampled upon him. It took an hour for him to die.
My heart goes out to his family, knowing what Christmas Day will be like for them. And those who unthinkingly contributed to his death - I am so sorry for them. Their Christmas Days will always be heavily accented with the blackness of grief overwhelming them because they were careless and let themselves be caught up in the maelstrom - nay, the insane storming in the name of Christ to be the first to grab the best goods at the best prices.
I will let other, better writers share their wondrous experiences of Christmas Day - and pray that you will forgive my somberness in sharing the darker side of what sometimes does occur on what should be a day for rejoicing and praising God for His incredible Gift of His only begotten Son...
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