Blogger Therapy Exercise #2

Since it is Christmas season, it is the perfect time to reflect on Christmas's Past.
(Not like Scrooge did, but in hopes that you have a cherished Christmas memory stored away somewhere that you can dredge up now to make you warm and fuzzy during this cold and snowy winter).

So, here is your second free blogger therapy lesson:

Take a deep breath (if you are not living in below zero right now...if so, don't do it..it will freeze your lungs off).

Ready?:

Think back to when you were a little girl (or boy).

Smell the Christmas tree?
Taste the eggnog?
See the bright Christmas lights and silver icicles on the tree? Maybe those "bubble lights" you used to have on the tree?
The angel at the top?

Now, think hard and name the best Christmas gift you EVER got when you were a kid.

Tell us why that exact image comes to mind for you and how old you were.......

That exact memory is what you need to hold on to this Christmas. Maybe even share it with your mother, your kids, your husband or your best friend.

If you are so inclined, feel free to add your memory to the "comment" section below for the rest of us readers to enjoy.

If you aren't so inclined (to share it), hold on to it tight this Christmas, and silently (in your heart) thank the loved ones that made it possible for you back then.
I just did.............

Here's mine:
I think I was maybe 4 or 5.
I don't remember ever asking Santa for the gift I got.
It was Christmas eve, around the bewitching hour (where you want to stay up and not go to bed, but knowing you'd better get your ass off to bed so Santa will have come the next day).
We had a house full of adults, visiting my mom and dad.
We had eaten and everyone was hanging around our small, crowded kitchen visiting.
My Mom suddenly said: Wait, do you hear something?"
Everyone froze and listened.
We heard noise and quite a bit of commotion just out our back kitchen door, inside the back shed.
It sounded like someone stomping their boots (to get the snow off).
Then, I heard what I thought were bells.
My mother said: "Do you think its Santa?"

All eyes turned toward me.

I was scared shitless.
I could not reply.

She pushed me toward the back door, where I could still hear commotion.

"Maybe you should open the door?", Mom said.

I was at a loss for what to do.

I mean I should have been in bed by now, to remain on the "good" list.

Who was it?

This could NOT be good......

What if HE knew I was up too late and that meant I would get no presents the next day?

And, if it really WAS him, I was too scared to actually meet him or say anything to him.

For God's sake, what on earth would I say? (?Hey there, Santa....mighty cold weather we've been having, hey? How is that darn Rudolf and the gang?)

Our houseguests all had silly grins on their faces. What was THAT all about?

I failed to see the humor. I mean, I truly did not know what to do.

After what seemed like an eternity, my Dad finally walked over and opened the door.

Directly in front of the door was a beautiful, mahogany play piano.

It was about the size of a coffee-table, and had a kid's size little chair to sit in front of the piano to play it.

I was dumbfounded.

It had to be a mistake.

First of all, I had never asked for this. Maybe a doll or a jewelry box, but not a piano.

On some level, I knew my family did not have much money, and therefore never expected more than two or three small, modest gifts every Christmas.

And I certainly never expected a piano.....exactly made for my size. For me????

And I certainly did not expect it to be delivered personally by The Man.

I looked back and forth from my mom to my dad for some hint of an explanation.

Nothing.

They just smiled.

Before I could move, a swirl of the guests swooped to the door to help haul it in.

I have no recollection of the rest of that Christmas eve night..........I don't even remember what other gifts I may have gotten that year.

And, to tell you the truth, I can't even remember actually playing with it a whole lot after that Christmas (or, for that matter... where it went as I got older).

Do I play piano now, as an adult?
Heck no....never had the urge. (Although whenever I see and hear others play the piano, I always envy their talent).

But the sweet music of Santa's bells in my back shed that night? Doing a special-delivery just for me?.................................That, was the best music that this little girl ever heard.

Now, what is your story?