A glimpse of a Christmas past:
Last Christmas Eve I sneaked out of bed and caught my parents putting out gifts. Mom waved me away with her lit cigarette, winked at Dad and said, “Silly. We’re setting out gifts for each other. Go to bed.” Christmas morning I learned she was telling the truth. Only Santa knew I wanted the Major Matt Mason Space Station play set.
This year my friends at Box Canyon Elementary said Santa was made up. I told them they were crazy. Santa was as real as the Catalinas and I was going to prove it once and for all on Christmas Eve.
10:05 p.m. Mom and Dad let me stay up to watch the news, and the Santa radar report, hoping I’d fall asleep. The whole time I was wide awake, staring at the vacant space under our Christmas tree. The little Joseph in the manger glared at me and made me feel guilty for wanting millions of toys.
10:30 p.m. Mom chimed, “Time for bed.” They tucked me in and shut my door. Tight.
10:35 p.m. A year in the dark passed. No sugar plums danced in this head. “I’m thir-r-r-sty.” Mom barked, “You had plenty to drink. You’ll wet the bed.” The master sergeant offered a fresh suggestion. “Count sheep.”
It was Christmas Eve and they didn’t care if I died of thirst. I hoped Santa wouldn’t bring them anything. Saint Joseph in Heaven frowned at me. I counted javelinas.
10:48 p.m. I heard Johnny Carson. I whined. “I need to go to the bathroom.” Mom turned on the hall light. I peeked down the hall. I saw our tree. The floor beneath it was bare. The gift zone was empty. And waiting for The Man.
11:05 p.m. Toddled out to the living room, pretending to have just woken up. “Is it Christmas yet?”
“To bed, Mister!”
“I can’t sleep. Read a story to me.” Guilt bent Mom every time. Every Christmas she read the same newspaper clipping to me she had cut out and kept, a version of “The Night Before Christmas” by “authors unknown,” that was published by the Tucson Citizen’s wonderful columnist, Don Schellie.
“‘Tis the night before Christmas,
And all through the casa,
Not a creature is stirring,
Caramba! ¿Qué pasa?
The stockings are hanging
Con much cuidado
In hopes that San Nicolas
Will feel obligado
To leave a few cosas
Aquí and allí
For Chico y Chica
(Y something for me).”
Mom stopped reading, saw that I was wide awake, sighed and kept reading.
“Los niños are snuggled
All safe in their camas
(Some in vestidos
And some in pajamas)
Their little cabezas
All full of good things
They’re all esperando
Que Santa will bring.
Papa in a T-shirt
Is grinding nixtamal
While buñuelos’ aroma
Wafts down the hall.
Mama at la estufa
Stirs up chile rojo
For tamales que Santa
Will enjoy y cómo!”
I asked mom for a tamale. “You already brushed your teeth.” Or so I had claimed. She soldiered on.
“La familia is feliz,
Tree lights gleam bright -
Merry Christmas a todos,
Y a todos, good night!”
Midnight We heard a church bell. Then jets. “The jets are taking off to escort Santa into town!”
“He’s still over Santa Fe. GO TO SLEEP.” She leaves.
12:36 a.m. I heard whispering, closet doors and drawers opening, followed by the rustling of paper and boxes.
I knew what they were up to. I found every gift they had hidden away in every closet and under every bed and in every suitcase in our house. Every last one. I was onto to their little game.
12:53 a.m. Mom whispered. Clearly, she was telling Dad what to do. I heard stacking. This went on for sometime. I cracked the door. I couldn’t make out anything.
1:03 a.m. Dad said, “We’re done here.” One by one the lights went off. In the darkness I listened for sleigh bells. I couldn’t make my move until I knew they were fast asleep. I decided to pass the time by listing the toys I had asked Santa for and I began to …
5:34 a.m. When I woke up Christmas morning I was as mad at myself as the Roman soldiers who had guarded Christ’s tomb and slept through the main event. On the plus side I took inventory of the toy haul and noted there were some extra big gifts which had obviously been delivered by Saint Nick himself. I loved my new G.I. Joe and my Hot Wheels.
That night I asked Joseph to forgive me for being greedy and for ever doubting that Santa was real and I wished him a very merry Christmas.
And then I slept like an angel.
