I traveled down Memory Lane quite a few times today. As I was writing my Christmas cards, my mind meandered back to Ayers Road in Forks Township where I grew up.

 It was a great place, a small farm with ducks, chickens, rabbits, pigs, a beagle and lots of cats and kittens.

 Christmas was my favorite time of year. Mom decorated everything that didn’t move. I remember the deep red cellophane wreaths with a lighted candle in the center. She plugged each one in as the first sign of darkness made its appearance. I loved them. I still can see how they glowed and changed the reddish look just a tad.

 I remember Mom sitting at the Formica kitchen table with pen in hand, writing out her Christmas cards. She would have her cup of coffee next to the box and take a tiny sip after she wrote our names on each card.

The next day the pile of cards would be stuffed in the mailbox ready for the postman. When I was growing up, the mailman came twice a day during the Holiday season. Each day when Mom brought the mail into the house, we children waited patiently to see if any of the cards had a glittered tree adorning the front of it. Mom hung them up around the doorways; then we waited for the mailman to make his second delivery.  It always amazed me how waiting for the mailman was more exciting than Howdy Doody.

 Each year, Dad had a platform filled with Plasticville buildings and everything that went with it. Mom and Dad worked very hard to build realistic looking mini towns, farms, and country scenes complete with tiny figures of men, woman, and children.

 But what stands out in my mind is our Christmas tree. Oh my, how wonderful it smelled! I long for that Christmas aroma.  Mom decorated the tree with large, hot bulbs, beautiful, glass ornaments, then painstakingly put individual strands of icicles building each branch up covering the tree. We always called the icicles, rain.  To this day, those trees on the farm are still my favorite.

 Mom and Dad always made Christmas special for us. Although we didn’t get a lot of presents, the few we received from Santa were perfect.

 I still can hear my mother singing Christmas carols as she baked cookies. I remember the round, wooden bowl filled with mixed nuts hiding inside each shell. In the center of the container was a place for the cracker and the picks to dig out the meat.  They were delicious!

Mom also set out dishes of tangerines for the holidays. Those tangerines were delicious and very sweet. And, of course, there was always a bowl of Christmas candy sitting on one of the side tables in the living room.

Even at school, we had real Christmas trees in each classroom, with a huge tall one in the hallway facing the front door. It was a heavenly walk through the halls, seeing the many chains of red and green construction paper, and smelling a forest of evergreens.

I will never forget my time at Forks Township Elementary School, even though it was many years ago.

I am a lover of Christmas. I enjoy decorating, baking, and being with my family. However, Christmas past is my favorite and always will be.

Memories are a beautiful way to connect to the happiness we experienced growing up; cherish each one.

What are some of your favorite Christmas memories?

Published by cynthiajeandeluca

My name is Cynthia Jean DeLuca. I am a wife, mother, grandmother, and great grandmother. I believe in following your dreams and never giving up! Helping others is very important to me, for when we help others, we help ourselves. It is my hope to make a difference in the lives of children and grown-ups. My hobbies are writing, quilting and painting. I am a novice at all three but, enjoy them immensely. I grew up on a farm with no indoor plumbing and no heat in our upstairs. I love life and have a very strong faith. Working on inspirational short stories for grown- ups. Love to speak on topics that touch my heart.

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