Christmas Past

My memory stretches way back as I stand here looking at the Christmas tree pondering Christmases past. I can remember going to grandma and grandpa's house for Christmas, the red mesh nylon stockings hanging around their picture window, full of fruits, nuts and the occasional toy. I remember grandpa always had one strand of lights hanging on his front porch and, as a child, that set of lights probably fascinated me more than anything else in the world. I don't know if it was because of the lights--they were just standard C9 bulbs, multicolored, with a bubble lamp on one end--or some odd fascination that grandpa left that one strand of lights hanging year round, only to plug them in after Thanksgiving. Any way I look at it, it is a very fond memory. I remember grandma's old LP player, playing Bing Crosby's "White Christmas". What a monster that old record player was! It was almost the size of a television. But I can remember putting the records on it at Christmas to listen to the music and enjoy it as we unwrapped presents and ate Christmas dinner. Really stretching my memory (i.e. I have no idea how I remember this far back) is the fire truck coming around town delivering fruit, I don't know if it was a contribution from the fire department or if our parents had purchased the fruit, I just remember it is one of my fondest (and earliest) memories seeing the fire truck going down the street, stopping and a fireman giving me an orange(wow! a real fireman giving me an orange!). It seems somewhat silly, but I can still remember it to this day, even if I was between 3-5 when it happened. The streets back then seemed so much larger, the town seemed so much larger. I don't know if it is the recollection of being a small child, or if it is the largeness of the community that echoes the largeness of everything in my memory. I guess that is what I remember most from my childhood Christmases: the overwhelming sense of community that permeated everything about the season. Many times I yearn for those days when everything was simpler and people were more friendly. I yearn for a time when I could walk down the street at Christmas time and not have to worry about the fact that I was walking alone. Most of all I yearn for the sense of family, friends and community that gave much more meaning to life. And I don't know who the fireman was who gave me that orange, but so many years later I have to say "thank you" to him for giving me such a wonderful memory that has lasted through so many years, so many trials, and has conveyed the true sense and meaning of Christmas through the fog of time.