Christmas Season Short Story

Someone had flipped the calendar; it showed a winter scene and read December 1962. I immediately thought of Advent Season, my favorite time of the year. But where is the Advent wreath? There is none, and in America, it’s called Christmas Season, I was told. The entire neighborhood, including my in-laws, spent many hours putting up strings of colored electric lights on their houses and front yard trees. Some had lit up plastic statues of a jolly Santa Claus, reindeer, and snowman, placed near trees and bushes, or by the front door. After dark, the illuminated houses and yards gave a feeling of a supernal place. We bundled up and took Patrizia through this sea of lights and her big brown eyes glistened with wondrous delight. During our walks, I heard that Santa Claus came in a sleigh, loaded with gifts for all children, pulled by eight reindeer, and Rudolf, the misfit reindeer, with the glowing red nose leading the way. “Rudolf,” I exclaimed, “that is my father’s name.”

It made me think of him and the misery he caused for my mother and me, when I was 16. He moved out and left a note on the kitchen table,

Dirty shoes or boots are unacceptable. Christkindl, an angle-like creature with wings, brings the tree and presents on Christmas Eve. After a Schnitzel dinner, a few old wives’ tales and superstitions are cited keeping everyone’s breath on hold. Then the candles on the tree are lit for the first time, and all gather around the tree singing carols ending it with Silent Night Holy Night. Finally, the moment of opening the gifts arrived. Christkindl brings only one presents to an adult and a few packages to the young ones. The children stay up late, so they can play with their new toys. At Midnight, most family members attend Midnight mass, regardless of bad weather