It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, everywhere we go. T'was the night before Christmas, and all through the house, the Hay creatures were stirring in their beds, pretending to sleep, knowing that St. Nick would soon be there.

Christmas at our house was special, thanks to our parents. They somehow always managed to surprise us. We had no chimney, so Santa had to come through the front door. Holy Cow, we would have to leave the front door unlocked. But back in the 50's that was the norm. we didn't have any locks on any doors.

The kids bedrooms were upstairs, and at the crack of dawn we would scramble down the enclosed staircase and wait at the door till we heard the folks stirring. Then it was a mad rush to get to the living room to see the joyous wonders Santa had left.

Dad probably spent most of the night putting our toys together. Usually the gift from Santa was left unwrapped. The one gift from our parents would be wrapped. That was it. Two presents for each, at the most. We were all so excited and thankful for what we received. We played with our toys until they were worn out.

Not like today, when kids have so many presents they can't remember who gave what. Then a few months later most of them are in this years garage sale.

This Christmas story is from my memoirs, "The Comeback Kid, Memoirs of Thomas L. Hay."