My husband and I sat down and started reminiscing about our first Christmas memories. We have two very different tales to tell.
My husband: We were living in a tenement at 78 Mulberry Street in the heart of Little Italy, NYC. Our apartment was about 600 square feet with two bedrooms, an open style kitchen, a small parlor and, basically, a closet with a toilet in it. With 2 adults and 4 boys, there was very little room for anything extra. My first memory was when I was about 5 or 6 years old. My dad would go down the street and buy a small tree and put it in a corner. He would then attach string to the top of the tree, out in both directions, and attach to the wall. This kept it from falling over. The first toy I remember getting was a 3 foot wind up circular train. It had an engine, two cars and a caboose. I tried to make train tracks, train crossing gates etc. with ice cream sticks but it was a no go. Did we have Santa? Our Santa was the gay guy (not that there’s anything wrong with that) who lived on the first floor. I don’t really remember anything about his visits other than he came to visit dressed as Santa. My mom always got as a gift a house coat and my dad, well, his usual box of Pell Mell cigarettes.
Me: We were living on our 300 acre ranch in rural south Texas in a large concrete house. There was nothing mother nature could throw at that house that would destroy it. It was about 10 miles outside of town (population about 800). It had a full bathroom (for then), a large kitchen, den, 2 bedrooms and a big attic i.e. playroom for my older sister and myself. My other sister would come along in about 2 years. My first memory was around 1955 or 1956 when I was 4 or 5 years old and my sister was 6 or 7. Our Christmas tree was a cedar tree my dad would cut from somewhere on the ranch. We always had tons of tinsel on the tree. Because my sister and I were so close in age, 16 months apart, my mother considered us twins. So, whatever she got, I got. I particularly remember getting paint by the number kits as well as some kit where you put glue on a certain part of the picture and then sprinkled colored sand on it or a puzzle. We never received more than two gifts. The rural folks would hire a local guy to dress up as Santa and have him come to their ranch or farm. We were the furthest out on his route. It was the custom to give Santa a shot of whiskey at each stop. Well, by the time he got to us, he was soused. So, for as long as I believed in Santa, I thought he always spoke with a slur and walked with a tilt…
Have a very Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and have a safe and healthy 2015.
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