December forces it’s cold and snowy weather upon us. It invites us inside to gather before a roaring fire, to sip hot cocoa and share memories of times gone by. The holidays are coming fast and with that comes the stress of shopping, family get together’s, work and parties, and, if you’re lucky, keeping up with the neighbors decorating the house. All of this can be overwhelming. But, it doesn’t have to be. It can be a very happy and joyful time.

This month’s holiday market was at Asylum 49 in Tooele, Utah. The old hospital, turned Holistic Center, hosted vendors of unique crafts and home made items. Over 50 booths shared their festive displays. It was great seeing faces we hadn’t seen in a long time, and catching up on current events. We met a lot of new faces, too, new friends that we hope to see again. That is what we love about doing markets, seeing others pursuing their dreams, just like us.

Christmas is a time for loving, a time for sharing and giving, while not expecting anything in return. It’s a time to reflect on old traditions or making yourself some new ones. We write letters and send cards back home to friends and family to let them know we are thinking of them near and far. While my mom is no longer with us, she struggled being a single mom, but she instilled many happy memories for me and my sisters when we were young. I’d like to share one of them with you.

It was the anticipation of Santa Claus. We lived in a very small town in New Jersey, with only two major streets at the time. So, Santa Claus coming through town on the fire truck was a major event we looked forward to every year. And if we weren’t good, well, the consequences were unthinkable.

The magic hour would come around 6 pm. Sirens screamed from a distance. The Millstone River and the Raritan Canal separated our town from the next small town, which was where the fire station resided. We knew it would be just minutes before it reached our street.

My sister and I were dressed in our snowsuits, hats and mittens way before it was time to go. We would stand on tip toe, faces pressed to the window to get a view of the truck, flashing lights and Santa. He would wave to us and us back at him, squealing with delight. “Let’s go Mom!” we’d yell and we’d all pile into the Edsel, yes, we had a ‘58 Edsel, and head over to the station.

Once there, the line was enormously long, or so it seemed to us. We just wanted to sit on Santa’s lap and pour out our heart’s desires. He assured us if we were good and listened to our mom, he would do what he could to make our dreams come true. We promised we’d try real hard and he’d give us each a box of Whitman’s Chocolates and the biggest orange we’d ever seen. Those gifts from Santa meant the world to us, for we knew mom didn’t have much money to buy us many nice things.

Back home, we’d say our prayers and mom would tuck us in bed. We prayed we were good enough so Santa would leave presents under the tree.

That was just one of my favorite memories. Christmas was always about celebrating the birth of Jesus first and for most. No presents were ever opened before we went to church.

So, this Christmas give someone a happy memory. Give with a loving heart and ask for nothing in return. Be a little kinder, put a smile on someone’s face, and remember the reason for this season.

Merry Christmas and God Bless,

Skip’s mom, Cb