Christmas 1987

The Christmas of 1987 is my favorite to remember.  My parents had gone through a difficult year.  We had to move from our spacious home in the suburbs to a small run down farmhouse in the country.  My dad took a construction job that required him to be away from home for days, or even weeks on end.  It was a difficult time for my parents.  However, we (myself and my 5 siblings) had no idea that there was any turmoil afloat.  We loved that old farmhouse.  It was drafty and creaky and if you put your ear up against the wall in the boys room, you could hear millions of bees living inside the wall.  There was a creepy cellar that you accessed by lifting a staircase to reveal hidden stairs, that lead down to the damp room.  We played outside on an old tire swing, in the cornfield, and at the neighbors small fish pond.  There were stray cats and wild asparagus all over the area. We had nice neighbors but, you could tell that we were the poor family on the street.   

My oldest brother Johnathan has always been the perfect big brother.  This particular year he had decided that he wanted to buy gifts for all of us.  The rest of us happily depended on Santa to do all the gift giving.  He, being the kindest of us all, wanted to be able to give and not just receive.  After spending several Saturdays doing yard work for the neighbors, he had saved up 70 dollars.  It was a great deal of money.  Five days before Christmas he went to the store to buy presents.  He kept to his budget and was able to select a nice gift for each member of our family.  But, when he got up to pay for the items he found that his wallet was missing.  He was not sure if it was lost or stolen.  He was very upset.  He put the items back on the shelves and left the store.  He didn’t want to tell anybody what happened.  However, on Christmas morning we all had presents from Johnathan under the tree.  

After the disappointing shopping trip, he came home and started working.  He was determined to give us each a gift. He had taken some old wood from the garage, cut it into segments and carved our names into them.  Each member of my family got a simple piece of wood, carved, sanded and stained.  All made with scraps and old supplies.  

I still have mine. It is my dearest and favorite gift.