Christmas Lights (short story) by Judith E. Vido on AuthorsDen

Judith E. Vido

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Christmas Lights
by Judith E. Vido
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Rated "PG" by the Author.

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As a child I knew Christmas was coming, but the exact date was still a mystery. When I discovered the tree decorated, I knew it had finally arrived.

�Christmas Lights�

By:

Judith E. Vido

�Oh Grandma! The lights look at all the lights. Papa must have gotten them fixed!�
Twenty minutes ago, I escaped my father�s mounting wrath as he untangled the strings of outdoor Christmas lights. I knew better than to hang around once the cussing began. So, before he could enlist my help, I ran across the field to my grandmother�s house. With a beaten path from our door to hers, I braved the unknown nightly to see if she had anything for me from the store.
At age six, the utter dark of the rural nights frightened me. No matter what anyone said, I was certain there were things in the dark that would get me. Therefore, I always ran along the path, only looking ahead to the light at Grandma�s back steps. Grandma worked on the fourth floor of the Thalhimers Brothers department store downtown, where the toy department had been relocated from the seventh floor. If there were ever any damaged items, I got them. At age six I was the closest granddaughter, living right next door, and the youngest so I got them all! From Paladin guns and holsters to Barbie doll clothes and wig cases, matchbox cars and John Deere tractors, dolls imported or domestic, Indian Tommy hawks to cowgirl outfits -- no matter, I got it from Grandma!
Tonight there were no store goodies but I sat happily watching Grandma work on her crocheting. She was at her favorite place seated before the television in her rocking chair. I liked to catch her dozing while her hands still flew through a familiar stitch.
�It�s almost Christmas,� she said. �You can wait till then for gifts.�
She lay down her hook and got up searching the table for her instruction book. �I must have left it in the other room.� I followed her into the bedroom and the glorious sight of color sparkled through the window that faced our front yard.
�Look at them Grandma,� I said running to the window. �Aren�t they beautiful?� She stepped to the window beside me and raised the shade. Together we stood looking at the house completely outlined with a multitude of colorful lights. Papa had framed the front and back porch and Mama had placed candle stands of eight or more candles of red, green yellow and blue lights in each window.
�That�s quite a sight,� Grandma said. �Your daddy outdid himself this year.�
�I gotta get home! I want to see them from the front yard and see how they all look from there!�
I flew from the house - not another thought for my Grandma or the hoped for toy. Across the field and along the path I ran undaunted by the night things lurking somewhere between Grandma�s house and mine. Christmas was almost here, Grandma had said so and the lights and the magical time of Christmas would keep me safe.
In the front yard I found Mama and Papa standing examining each light for duplicate colors or those without aluminum reflectors place behind each bulb. Papa had discovered the latter a few years ago, and liked the effect they produced of twinkling starlight. All the anger, all the profanity expelled upon finding a blown bulb or damaged reflector or the hundred other things that could go wrong with a string of electric lights, was banished.
�What do you think Juju?� Papa asked.
Awestruck by the sight before me all I could manage was a hushed -- �It�s Christmas.�
�We�d better plan on getting the tree next weekend, don�t you think?� Mama asked Papa.
Papa rubbed his hand over his stubbled chin and said, �I�ll go over to dad�s sometime this week and see if we can look for one on Blanks�s farm.�
By the next weekend, school had let out for the Christmas holiday, and the weather had grown a bit nippier. Bundled up in my warmest sweater, coat, snow pants, and double layers of socks and mittens, Papa, Mamma, my brother Warren, and I set out on the Christmas tree hunt. I was so excited I could barely keep still as my parents and brother exchanged pleasantries with Mr. and Mrs. Blanks. My brother, at fourteen, seemed more interested in whether he could hunt squirrels than finding our Christmas tree. I could not imagine what was wrong with him�.
At last we began our hunt into the woods, and across acres of pasturelands. The huge bull grazing within one pasture was nearly the end of us. He began to paw the ground and bellow when he saw us. As the large animal snorted and tucked his head to charge, Papa got us out of harm�s way. Picking me up he handed me over the fence to Mamma just in time.
Hours or minutes could have passed, I couldn�t be sure. I only know we were not having much luck when Papa stopped us in the middle of the field. He searched the landscape, and lit a cigarette.
Leaning on his ax, he said to my mother, �I haven�t seen a damned tree that is full enough -- or if it�s full the damned thing is too short. We might have to go buy one this year, Bobby.�
Mama looked at her watch. �It�s nearly three. Why don�t we give it till four? If we can�t find anything we can stop by the fire station on the way home.�
Cold as I was, and needing to pee badly, I was distressed by the possibility of not taking home a tree we had found and cut ourselves. I began to pray as my Sunday school teacher had taught me. I was too young to consider the fact that sometimes, no is God�s answer to a prayer. We walked on, and climbed a few more fences trying out new pastures and woods. Finally time had run out, and we turned back.
All of a sudden my brother called to us from the edge of the next field. �Hey come look at this one!�
Papa went running while mama and I stayed put in case it was another dud. A few minutes later we heard the sound of my father�s ax and my brother came running toward us.
�We�ve got it!� He was breathing hard but picked me up and swung me around. �And it�s a beaut Minnie!� He used the nickname given me by my uncle Donald because of my great liking of Minnie Pearl on the Grand Ole Opry.
Once home Papa took our tree, an ample, aged cedar, and placed it in a bucket of water on the back porch. With bailing twine he tied the top stem and then attached it to the porch rafter. Mama came out of the kitchen door and looked it over.
�There is a small empty spot over here but we can put that up against the wall, it won�t show at all.�
�When can we decorate it mama?� I asked every year.
�Santa will decorate it on Christmas Eve when he comes,� Mama said as if I had never asked before.
Christmas must really be close now I thought. We have the tree, and the cedar chest, sitting in the hall to the right of my bedroom door, was beginning to be stacked with brightly colored packages. As the days passed, I noticed more and more packages each morning, as I passed it on my way to breakfast. All that red paper with white snowflakes, green Christmas trees on silver and red, Santa clauses, bells, dolls, wreaths or just Merry Christmas written across it with big bows and curly ribbon was a sight unto itself. As the pile of packages grew, so did my excitement. I would wake up every morning and dash to the hallway door. From there I could look through the dining room, and through the archway to the living room. Our tree would sit in the corner, and when I saw the tree I knew it would finally be Christmas. Sometimes this went on for weeks, my child�s hopes blazing each morning then dashed when no tree was found.
Yet I knew something was up when one night Mama asked, �Don�t you think it�s time you went to bed?� Never having been restricted to a particular bedtime, I wondered at this.
�No mama,� I said, �Why?�
�Well - it�s getting late and Papa and I have to be up early tomorrow.�
�Why Mama? Aren�t you and Papa on holiday too?�
�Yes, but -- tomorrow is special and we have things to do. You know to get ready for Christmas.�
�But I�m not tired.�
�Go to bed anyway,� she said, putting an end to the conversation. Reluctantly I did as she said.
In spite of my slowest movements in removing my clothes, I was soon settled in bed with Susie Q. One of Grandma�s gifts to me, Susie Q had been an Alice in Wonderland dancing lamb doll. She was nearly as big as me with long red and white striped legs and a short sleeve red dress that showed off her wooly arms. Mama came in to say goodnight.
�I�ll see you in the morning,� she said bending to kiss my forehead and tucking me in.
�Good night Mama.� I watched her turn to leave and when she got to my bedroom door -- she closed it! I tried to sleep really I did but too many strange things were going on that night. Not long after mama left me I began to hear shuffling noises in the hallway, and people talking in low voices. Something was definitely going on. The effort I put into trying to hear who or what was in the hallway eventually lulled me into a sound sleep.
I awoke the next morning to the house already warmed by the floor furnace. My bedroom door was open again. I raced from my bed not stopping in my usual spot to spy on the corner where the Christmas tree would be, but ran right to the archway. Christmas music was playing softly on the radio and the scent of fresh cedar filled my nose. The tree stood snug in its corner taking up the entire space allotted for it. Tiny lights peeked from its prickly branches and snow still clung to it as if it had just come in from the North Pole. Red, green, blue, gold and silver bulbs sprinkled with glitter hung in abundance on the tree. All the brightly colored packages were neatly stacked in four piles beneath it on the floor.
I smiled a great smile so great it hurt my jaws. �It�s Christmas� Finally it�s really Christmas,� I said to the tree.
And the tree answered me. Its lights began winking at me.
Oh how I loved those Christmas lights -- I still do.
End Christmas Lights.
� Judith E. Vido November 2006

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Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado	11/4/2007

Excellent story, but it would be easier to read if you left space between each paragraph; otherwise, it is very good! Well done! :)

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