*CHRISTMAS MORN

Before the sun was up on Christmas morning, I would often hear my older sister calling to me through the heat vents. Her bedroom was in the basement, directly below mine.  Because the vents were connected, it was easy to talk back and forth.  I think I was usually trying to convince her that it was OK to go wake up mom and dad.  My parents eventually got up, but I don't remember if it was because they heard us talking or  Karen had come upstairs.

It was tradition that all of the kids lined up in the hall according to age, with the youngest being first in line.  We had to wait there while my father fumbled around in the dark to turn on the tree lights and start a fire in the fireplace. On more than one occasion, he knocked the tree over.  Then the lights had to be turned on while he up righted the tree. The kids had to retreat to a bedroom so that we couldn't see what Santa had brought. It was agony waiting for everything to be ready.  Most Christmas mornings, all the kids were hoping that Dad wouldn't knock the tree over and delay our first look at the presents.

The Christmas morning line up.  I'm trying to get Alan to hurry just a little.  That's my father in the lower left corner.  I guess he's wearing a coat because he had to go outside for firewood - maybe.

My father, being very systematically minded, had a defined process about how the presents were opened.  We all had to sit in a row in front of the tree while he searched under the tree for our presents.  There was no attacking the presents with a free for all unwrapping.  Dad handed each child a present in turn.  We had to wait while the present was opened before he searched under the tree for a present for the next kid. He would tease you by pretending that maybe there wasn't something under the tree for you.  Then with further digging and searching, he'd find a present with your name on it.  The process went on what seemed like forever  It was particularly agonizing when you knew that the big box over in the corner had your name on it, but Dad seem to pass over it time and again.

Christmas 1953.  I so thrilled with my Saucy Walker doll.  My sister, Karen, and brother, Alan are in the background. Notice the Christmas tree in the back with all the carefully hung tinsel.

The clean up of all the Christmas wrappings was easy.  We just stuffed the paper and boxes in the fireplace and watched it all go up in flame. It's amazing that we didn't set the house on fire because the somewhat dried out tree was right next to the fireplace.  Icicles and other ornaments weren't fire proof back then either.  We also didn't know back then that the fumes and toxins released by burning Christmas wrapping paper in living room fireplace was hazardous to your health.

By the time all the presents were opened and the Christmas wrappings burned up in the fireplace, the sun would be up.  We would have breakfast together and then my parents would go back to bed. I didn't quite understand that because my parents were early risers every other day.  Little did I know that they probably had only been in bed for a couple of hours when we kids rousted them out at 5:30  or 6:00 AM.