Christmas Memories:When we create lifelong memories

First, everyone is running around trying to outguess and outshine anyone. Your loved ones would prefer a less stressful you.

Second, people out of guilt make purchases that do not match the recipient of the gift. Your loved ones would prefer your greatest gift, time.

Third, there is the argument, how to greet people during this time. Your loved ones would settle for a smile. So, what are the holidays really all about??? That is a very good question.

My fondest memory of Christmas was when my sisters and I would get up early, crawl under the angel hair on the big, shiny tree and sneak our gifts out to our bedroom before Mom caught us. We never thought about how we were going to place them back and avoid the harsh scolding afterwards. It was drilled to us that we were to get a single gift and anything more would be given to the less fortunate children under five in the neighborhood. We did not mind that, since that meant they could come over and we would all play together.

While the parents were in the kitchen drinking coquito and coffee, the kids took over the living with toys, tape and surprises. It was fun and magical. There were about 15 children, all under five, who looked forward to this moment. We taped each other, wrapped each other in wrapping paper, played with each other’s toys, hair and cherished each moment. We were not only being playful but safe from all the other harms of poverty. Children were treasured and we knew that for this one day we all peacefully, played.

My mother always felt Christmas is for the children and Rockefeller Center, Macy’s parade and Santa always took a back seat to what was happening in their homes.

These children looked forward to playing and enjoying the joy of Christmas. They knew that once a year they would find presents at my mother’s home and just for that day, there would be no fighting, crying, or complaining. Ghetto children had to settle for much less throughout the year but not at my mother’s and not at Christmas.

I want the holidays to always be like those little kids in the ghetto who once year shared laughter, giggled and were silly and so very grateful that Santa left gifts for them.  Fast forward. All those kids (about 15) have grown up and gotten out the ghetto.  They still reach for each other across countries, states and time to share those memories. In their homes, there are always gifts for other children.

They all share Christmas memories, forever…..