Christmas Day 1971

I’m not sure if there was snow on the ground in 1971, but it was the first Christmas I experienced as a newcomer to this world.

Granted, I don’t remember anything about that first visit from Santa Claus, but my late mom didn’t want to forget what the holly jolly fellow left under the Christmas tree that morning. Mom compiled a diary for my sister and I in a teal blue “Baby’s Story” book that has notes, photos and plenty of memories written down on paper that is still clear to read with mom’s unique handwriting.

As an eight-month old, I received a swing, walker, Smoky the Bear outfit, red outfit, green pants, brown and red pants, building blocks, a toy dog, toy telephone and five dollars. Mom kept track of what Santa brought us up until the “eighth Christmas.”

That year, is the one I remember the most. Underneath the tree on Christmas morning in 1979, there sat a Hungry Hippo game, Starsky and Hutch toy guns, race cars, a puppet, candy, brown shirt and pants, socks, star patrol car, Crane Log truck, and my favorite — a record player with a collection of 45s.

Since I came along three years earlier than my sister Taunya, I would imagine mom and dad had a fun time making their first child happy on his first Christmas. It was a special one, considering I was born two-months premature and weighed less than two pounds. 

In our later years, Taunya and I couldn’t wait to get the latest and greatest J.C. Penny Christmas catalogue and would spend hours at my grandmothers house looking through those pages making a list of what we wanted for Christmas that year. 

We would receive what seemed like hundreds of Christmas cards in the mail and from church members back then. We would go through them over and over and over again and pick out our favorites and compared them at the end. Those were the simple times when real life was miles ahead of us.

It certainly didn’t take long to get to our teenage years and adulthood. 

We were always blessed at Christmas and mom and dad made sure we received what we wanted each year, but more importantly, they made sure we understood the meaning of Dec. 25. They taught us about the birth of Jesus and how he was born in a manger in Bethlehem and how God provided a divine and miraculous answer to mankind’s need for a Savior.

They also taught us the value of family and being together at Christmas and spending quality time with each other. Things have changed in the past three years, but we still cling to each other during the holidays and that’s the most important thing.

It may not be 1971, but the meaning of Christmas has not and never will change for me.