How do you feel about Christmas in May? In case you haven’t already figured this out, the Little Murdo Girl runs this show. I remember when I was her age and all the excitement was around presents and family gatherings. The biggest disappointment was finding an orange in my stocking. The story of baby Jesus and the Three Wise Men, along with Christmas programs at Church and school, were all part of the magical experience. It was easier to gloss over family dysfunction, and the behavior of overly excited kids. I hope you’re like me, and you’re willing to read more Murdo Girl Christmas stories, I have no doubt, there may be a few more in our future.
The lady told me I could pick a favorite Christmas and write about it, but I decided to write about this one. I love Christmas, and not just because of the presents.
I always look through all the catalogs when I’m trying to decide what to wish for from Santa Claus. (The Christmas I’m writing about was a few years ago, when I still believed there was a Santa Claus.)
PLEASE, If you have a kid that still believes in Santa, do not let them read this paper. I don’t want your kids finding out there isn’t a Santa from me. They should find out accidentally like I did.
I’m sort of surprised Billy never told me. I think the reason he didn’t is because he was traumatized when he found out. Mom said one day he came running home and he was upset and crying, because the Oldencamp girls told him Santa Claus wasn’t real. It was pretty pitiful I think, because he had already written his Santa letter and everything. Mom saved the letter, and she recently let me read it. He said he lived in the middle of a house between Uncle Jeff’s and Uncle Wayne’s house. The way he worded it might have been confusing if there really was a Santa, because it sounded like he lived in the middle of his house.
That might have been the year Billy got an electric train. Mom told me Dad set the train up on a huge table in the basement, and Billy could barely reach it. I guess Dad and his friends liked playing with it too. I heard it was top-notch!
Anyway, back to me. I picked out a beautiful doll I saw in the Sears Catalog. She was big, and she had blonde curly hair. She was wearing a pretty blue dress, and black, shiny leather shoes. She also came with a blue blouse and striped pants. It was still a month until Christmas, but my mind was made up. I showed the picture to Mom, wrote my letter, and waited.
Well, a couple of weeks later, I was downstairs and I accidentally opened the door to Billy’s closet. There she was, the doll of my dreams. At first I just looked at her once in a while, but as the days wore on, I played with her some. I even named her Suzy.
Christmas Eve was at our house that year. Everybody was there including Aunt Irma, who films home movies with her reel to reel. It has big bright lights that blind you for about 5 minutes. Mom had all of her best dishes stacked on our yellow pedestal table. She was getting ready to serve all the food buffet style.
Well, Dad was standing by the table. He must have been blinded by the lights, because he put his hand on one end. He leaned on the table a little too hard, and it tipped enough to cause every one of Mom’s dishes to slide off and go crashing to the floor. There wasn’t a single dish that wasn’t shattered.
It got so quiet, you could have heard a pin drop. Mom opened her mouth wide, but nothing came out. She went to the closet, got out a broom and a dust pan, and started furiously sweeping. The rest of us just kind of stood there in shock. I think Dad went and got a waste basket. Aunt Irma forgot to stop the reel to reel, and filmed the whole thing.
Christmas morning I still woke up at 4:00 a.m., like I always did before I found out there wasn’t a Santa Claus. I was really wishing I hadn’t found Suzy. Now I had to act all surprised and excited. I kind of panicked, because I couldn’t remember if I had put the right outfit back on her.
I don’t know how, but I know my parents knew I knew. Billy did too. We never really talked about it, but we didn’t talk about Santa Claus anymore either.
I had another dilemma. How was I supposed to find out if all the cousins South of 16 still believed in Santa Claus? I finally figured it out. If they weren’t up by 6:00, they had to know there wasn’t a Santa.
Upon further contemplation, I decided there was a flaw in my plan. They would still get up early if they hadn’t found their present and played with it. I decided I would just have to keep my mouth shut until someone spilled the beans.
Dad and I went to Rapid City a couple of days later and bought Mom a whole new set of dishes. We found some that looked just like the ones that broke.
I can’t wait to watch it all on Aunt Irma’s movie.