[img]396|left|Alex Campbell||no_popup[/img]Christmastime is here. I’m big into Christmas. Having grown up with no religion, Christmas to me means an evergreen tree (bought for $20 or less at the liquor store parking lot), music, presents, lots of food, friends, and family.
[img]752|left|||no_popup[/img]When I was a child, we started celebrating Christmas in the evenings. Darkness enveloped the city, and we were cozy inside our Manhattan apartment. The tree was lit with white lights, and my father would play Christmas songs on his guitar. On Christmas Eve, we’d leave cookies for Santa, and carrots and celery on the fire escape for the reindeer.
I’ll never forget the night that I learned there was no Santa Claus. There were two pocket doors in between the living room and the bedroom I shared with my older brother, B.J. One Christmas eve, I think I was five or six, we were sent to bed so that Santa would come. B.J. stood on our side of the door and said, “Alex, c’mere.” I went over to where he was, and I noticed he had cracked the door open just enough to see through to the living room where the tree stood. He moved over and said, “Look.” I peeked through the crack, and to my surprise, I saw my mom and dad wrapping presents and putting them under the tree! I remember being surprised, but I didn’t burst through the door or anything. I just thought, “So that’s how it happens.” We went to bed, and had a wonderful Christmas, Santa or no Santa.
Those were the good years. Later, my mom, brother, and I moved to Brooklyn, and Christmases were different. They were still pretty good, and at times humorous. My favorite Christmas story from Brooklyn involves B.J., a window, and a Christmas tree.
Taking a Snazzy Shortcut
Christmas was over, and it was time to take the tree downstairs three flights to the garbage cans in the back of the brownstone that we lived in. My mom instructed B.J., about ten or eleven years old, to take the tree down while she was at work. B.J. decided he didn’t feel like lugging a cumbersome and prickly tree down three flights of stairs. He figured he’d save some time. So he picked up the tree and threw it out the front window, where it got stuck in the branches of the huge tree that grew outside the building. The Christmas tree was perched precariously right above the walkway to the front door. We watched all day, and then in the days that followed, to see if it would kill our mean landlady by falling on her head. It took a few days, but somehow it fell out of the tree without causing anyone harm, much to our relief.
When my mom died, I inherited all of our Christmas ornaments and homemade stockings from my childhood. I get a tree each year, and put the ornaments on it with care. I always cry when decorating my tree because I remember my mom and the good Christmases we had. I love the ornaments I’ve added on my own, and the ones my friends have given me. The house smells wonderful, and I feel at peace with my studio apartment decorated.
This year I just couldn’t get it together. I went out at the last minute to get a Charlie Brown tree, and there weren’t even any of those left. I ended up getting a light blue tinsel tree, and I have to say, I love it. It’s a little chintzy, but cute in its own way. It requires no watering, and I can leave it up for as long as I want, with no mess. I’ll decorate it when I come back from my holiday travels.
Even if you don’t celebrate Christmas, I hope you enjoy the winter season and the coziness it brings. Have a Happy New Year, and I’ll see you in 2010.
Ms. Campbell may be contacted at campbellalexandra@hotmail.com
