Christmas Memories from Bonnie Ramsburg

Christmas Memories

by Bonnie Ramsburg

Memories are usually something to cherish. And I cherish all of them that I can recall- especially around the holidays.

I have to admit, Christmas is my favorite holiday. And I have some pretty awesome memories.

Christmas Tree Mishaps

One of our few live trees had a surprise in store for us. It was over 5-6 feet tall, and my parents knew they were going to have to cut some of the trunk off. They thought it was just because it was too wide to fit the tree stand. But dad soon found out that the trunk was bent in an odd way; he thought simply cutting a bit more off would do the trick. No such luck, by the time he found a straight piece of trunk that would allow the tree to A) fit in the stand and B) stand up straight, our 5-6 foot tall tree ended up being less than 3 feet tall. It was the cutest tree I can remember having. It was also the first time we had a cat during the holidays, and we found out late at night that the little devil liked climbing trees. Dad ended up having to tie the tree to different pieces of furniture in order to keep it safe from the cat.

My first car was a Geo-Metro Hatch Back. Small, compact, really too small for me because of my size, but that’s another story. I decided that I wanted a real tree for the family one year while I had said car. I went to get it with my mom, and we fit it in the car with no problem. It slid in, trunk first, no bending or harming of the branches. We tied the hatch down and made our way home. After getting home, my dad looked at us, looked at the car with the tree top sticking out of the back and just shook his head, and proceeded to remove the tree (with some difficulty) from the car.

My most memorable Christmas present was the one and only time I ever wanted to sneak a peak. That year, my parents’ put a huge box in their closet. We put the presents we had wrapped in it till Christmas morning. I went in to put a wallet I bought for my mom in the box and noticed a most unusual shaped package with my name on it. It was so intriguing that I kept going back and looking at it whenever I could. I managed to refrain from opening the present though. Cabbage Patch Dolls were the big deal at the time. My unusual present was a doll. But it wasn’t a Cabbage Patch. It was a Cauliflower Patch Doll. She had pink hair pulled up in a bun, and was packaged in a hard plastic Cauliflower shaped container. I’m extremely glad that I didn’t sneak a peak that year. I did end up getting a Cabbage Patch Doll for either my birthday or Christmas from my aunt the following year, but my I liked my Cauliflower Patch Doll better!

We never asked for specific toys. We knew better. But one year, (and I admit it, I was an adult by this time) I really wanted a specific toy. I had been watching a T.V. show geared towards kids (yes, I do still like some cartoons and kids shows). It was called ‘Wishbone.’ It was about a Jack Russell Terrier that we, the audience could hear talk, but his human family couldn’t. I liked it because it was the only way I was exposed to stories from classical literature. The dog would become the main character in whichever book they were portraying that show. I happened to see a stuffed Wishbone that talked, and when I found all of the spots and pressed them, his tail spot said, “Don’t go there!” That just tickled my funny bone and made me want this animal for Christmas. I put it out there to my mom, fully expecting not to get it. But come Christmas morning, there he was, under the Christmas tree!

There were many years that were tight financially for my parents around the holidays. But we always managed to have something under the tree. Usually it was something we needed more than what we wanted, but they made sure we had Christmas. One year though, the ladies in the office of the company that my dad worked for found out that we weren’t going to have any presents that year. They came together and bought us several nice presents, including a Super NES game system. Mom and dad made sure we wrote thank you notes for those ladies!

The End of a Belief

I clearly remember the year I ‘Officially’ quit believing in Santa Claus. Don’t get me wrong, I knew that my parents were the ones buying me presents, but I still liked the idea of a Santa Claus. But the year I turned 15, I was away from home for school. I was able to spend Christmas with my biological father and my 2 brothers. Christmas morning arrived and he had me go down in the basement with him under the pretext of helping him do something. He then called the boys downstairs to “help” him carry some stuff upstairs and while we were all down there, they got to see the bikes that “Santa” had gotten them for Christmas; yet he had showed them to me the night before, so I was faced with the truth that Santa wasn’t real.

Not exactly a fond memory, but one that made an impact on me. I still like the thought of a Santa Claus though. And I hope I always do.