A Childhood Christmas Memory

Originally Published Dec. 2012

I was eight or nine year’s old.  Old enough to know better.  But, evidently, I wasn’t in the mood to obey my mother.  My older brother, Steve, and my younger sister, Joanne, and I were playing in the living room while my mom was reading the newspaper.  The lights on the Christmas tree were on and Christmas music was playing from the stereo.  We were all settled in for a long winter’s night – waiting for my dad to come home from work.

My mom loved decorating the house for the holidays and believe me, every inch was adorned with pine, bulbs, tinsel, bows, candles, fake snow, and anything else that made you think of Christmas.

One of the first things one would notice went entering our Christmas house was our console TV.  On the top of that very large piece of furniture was a huge stable filled with statues of Mary, Joseph, the 3 Kings, camels, sheep, cows, shepherds, and of course, the baby Jesus.  I’m sure many families do not place the baby Jesus in the stable until Christmas Day – the day of His birth.  But, my mom – well aware of how her kids were – knew that we would have certainly lost poor baby Jesus well before Christmas Day.  So, baby Jesus was in the stable on that fateful day that I disobeyed my mother.

Way back in those days (the 1950’s), one had to use real cotton to resemble snow since the modern-day synthetic snow or flakes weren’t invented yet.  Anyway, in addition to the cotton and the stable, my mom had two vigil candles placed on each side of the stable.  Since it was already dark out, mom had lit the candles for ambiance.  And, I was standing in front of the TV, playing with the little animals and 3 Kings.  Mom yelled at me to stop playing around the lit candles.  Of course, I paid no attention to her and continued playing.  I don’t really remember how many times she told me to stop; but, before long…… yep, you guessed it.  I somehow overturned one of the candles and the cotton was on fire.  The fire moved quickly to the stable and the statues.  

My mom shouted to my brother – who happened to be in the kitchen at the time – to bring some water!  Steve – not knowing what was going on – came into the living room with a glass of water.  Mom quickly ran to the kitchen, and filled some large cooking pots with water and thankfully, was able to put the fire out before it spread to the Christmas tree.  

The stable and statues were completely ruined, of course.  And the TV.  One side was salvageable with only a few scorch marks.

Then we heard the sound of my dad’s car on the frozen snow.  Dad found me later hiding in the attic shivering in anticipation of a spanking at the very least and being grounded for the rest of my life at the very most.  I got neither.   Dad sat me down and we had a really long talk about the importance of listening to and obeying my parents and the need to apologize to mom.  I remember that I didn’t get my allowance for a few months and also remember that I was really a good girl for quite a while.

Jump ahead ten years when I was out in the working world and getting my first apartment.  Of course, I had hand-me-down furniture, dishes, etc. from mom and dad and various relatives and friends.  But, the one item that I kept for many years was a coffee table that my dad made from the side of the TV that was scorched.  It was a gentle reminder of the Christmas that almost wasn’t – all because I didn’t obey my mom.