Christmas memories start out at a very young age for us.We just do not always remember exactly what age we are. I honestly cannot remember when my memories from Christmas started.
My life began when I was adopted by a beautiful woman. She was beautiful on the inside as well as the outside. As awesome as she was, I had a father who was not so awesome. Being an alcoholic, he was not much help to my Mom. She worked all the time to keep my brother and I together. To give us what little we had.
As a child, I remember my Mother working extra hard around Christmas holidays. Of course it was to make it possible for us to have a decent Christmas. Most of my Christmases were alike in a lot of ways, although I do have memories of one that stood out more than the other ones.
My Mother always doubled up on her hours working before Christmas. Even then she was not able to do all she wanted to do. But for her children she was not too proud to ask for help. What she could not provide she found a way.
Our church gave out baskets of food to those who were poor and Mom would always get our name in there as early as possible. It was the only time of the year that we had more than one apple, or one orange, and candy or nuts at the same time. The basket was something we looked forward to all year. My Mom had to use her money on food to feed us the rest of the week, not use it on special things for one big meal. But she had worked overtime hours in order to surprise us with the things we had ask for that year.
Normally we did not have a choice of anything for Christmas. We received what we were given and were thankful for it. This year Mom told my brother and I we could ask for one thing. I knew that there would be one other thing under the tree and I could hardly wait.
This particular year I had ask for a walking doll. This doll was as big as I was and I loved it but you know; it was not special. What was special was one of the things that Mom got us both each year. Every year she got me a white pair of boots with tassels on them and my brother always got a pair of cowboy boots.
Even tho we received those every year, they were the most special memory. I guess because it was something that my Mother kept up all those years. It was something we could depend upon. I believe everyone needs something to count on never changing. That continuity is what made it special, plus the story of Christmas that she told every year about Jesus.