The world was a huge cushy, white
comforter enveloping Woodside in a pristine, laundered layer of crisp, cold snow.
As I awoke, the light had begun to push away the darkness. It was Christmas morning, and I was sure I had heard the scraping and plopping of reindeer hooves on the roof during the night above my attic bedroom. Coming down the stairs all
was quiet and dark on the main floor. Mom and Dad were still asleep. Dad snored
loudly. The clock on the wall said 5:30 AM. A smell of pine needles and a
glimpse of presents and tinsel drew me into the living room where the wide
conifer with its star on the tippy tippy top barely missed scraping the ceiling.
The ornaments and tinsel hung anxiously in anticipation, ready to spring to
life when Dad finally plugged in the tree.
Knowing the rules of the house, I found
my labeled stocking with my name sewn into the fabric which I was allowed to
peruse before everyone else woke up.
Overflowing from the top of the stocking
was a large candy cane in the shape of a bat and behind that a chocolate Santa
wrapped in colored tin foil detailing his face and clothing to perfection.
Santa had a big smiling face with a white beard, a red hat, big black boots and
a wide black belt with a silver buckle, he was most impressive. It would be a
shame to curl back the foil to sample the chocolate beneath. He was solid chocolate,
not that hollow nonsense, and a just reward for being good all year to attain this
outcome. The smell of the creamy delight escaped the tinfoil wrapping. This
stash would need to last until the Easter Bunny arrived in the Spring! As I
reached into the stocking, delving past the candy my hand fell upon a smooth asymmetrical
object and I soon pulled it out to find a glossy canary yellow wooden top with blue
and red stripes around its perimeter, not unlike the rings of Saturn. Also
included and taped to the side of the top was the string which would be used to
release the top and send it spinning and skidding across any hard surface on
its metal tip. Next my hand alighted on a flat object that made noise as stone
like tablets slid back and forth on its surface. It was a Tic Tac Toe board
that one could play without the need for paper and pen. Plunging to the deep
recesses of my happy holiday hosiery were new recruits to be drafted into my
army of marines and army soldiers complete with all the implements of war
including grenades, bazookas and rifles, somehow still associated with this season
of peace and love. Out they came marching two by two in this annual procession
swelling the ranks of my forces. Later in the day they would be formally inducted
into the army. Little Sis came shuffling out of her bedroom rubbing the sleep
from her eyes as I informed her that Santa had come!
Finally, Mom and Dad groggily got out of
bed and shuffled over to the coffee pot for a sample of that Nectar of the Gods
which made all civilized life possible. Many years later after becoming a
parent myself I would appreciate the fact that what appeared to have been a
full night’s sleep for my parents may have only been an hour or two of rest after
having completed all the necessary wrapping and building and reading of
instructions written in English by someone who spoke it as a second language, culminating
in the annual disgrace of hiding the extra parts for eventual disposal under
cover of darkness. All this was part of the holiday tradition. From my
perspective my parents simply appeared to be tired and grouchy. Then Dad said, “I
have to get something from the basement Jim. Would you like to come down and
feed the fish?”
“Sure dad,” I said as we descended down
and Dad turned on the basement light. Mom and little Sis trailed behind
following us down the stairs. To my great surprise in the area usually reserved
for stored books or packed boxes, a huge green sheet of plywood had appeared! The
plywood had a six-inch-high wooden border installed perpendicularly to its
surface and the entire assemblage was painted Kelly green, and all the edges
had been planed and sanded for safety. Wooden horses supported the board. Straddled
across the top of the enormous board was a giant oval train track sprawled around
the inner perimeter of the sheet and within the oval was a giant figure -eight with
interconnections where trains could transfer from one track to the other with
the manual shifting of a switch. In one area a mountain sat straddled over the
track through which a black tunnel penetrated for the train to pass unscathed.
On the track sat a large black locomotive followed by six freight cars of all
different colors and origins. Trailing behind and attached to the last freight
car was a red caboose. A pump trolley with two men propelling the device
whisked along the track when the track was electrified. The tracks which the
train sat on were mounted on a gravelly grey hard rubber base which slanted
down on either side to the green plywood below it, simulating a gravel bed over
a green meadow. A large black control box with two sliding handles sat mounted on
one corner of the board to control the starting and stopping of the trains.
Dad found a little plastic box next to
the locomotive filled with white tablets and after taking out a pill he somehow
intuitively understood to put it in the smokestack of the locomotive. I put on a
blue and white striped engineer’s cap, conveniently found lying on the board,
and sent the train around the track a few times, while smoke began to billow
out of the locomotive as the pill dissolved. It was just as if you were
watching a locomotive on Gunsmoke or Bonanza! I felt like Choo
Choo Charlie! The smoke was very realistic, and I could smell and taste the
gritty black coal being feverishly shoveled into the boiler by some invisible
man. This train set was the best gift ever!
Dad was as surprised as I was, wondering
out loud,” How did Santa set all this up so quietly that none of us woke up?”. We
had slept soundly as Clement Moore’s sugarplums danced in our heads.
Apparently, Santa had used some magic and the assistance of his most stealthy
elves to help him in this task, especially on a night when he was so busy to
begin with! I didn’t notice the bags under Dad’s eyes or the bandage on one of
his fingers.
When Grandma and Grandpa came later in
the day for Christmas dinner, Grandpa was probably even more tired than Dad,
but this also escaped my eyes, as I escorted them downstairs to see the train
set that had materialized in our basement. Mom and Grandma were probably very
tired also.
In later years when I had grown, I found
out the true story of that Christmas Eve, which was much more impressive than
the fanciful tale of Santa and the elves as my Father and Grandfather had
acquired all the materials and constructed the diorama in my Grandfather’s
basement without the benefit of a family car or power tools and the finished
product was attached to wheels on one side of the board and pushed from Elmhurst across Queens Boulevard
late at night on Christmas Eve, to arrive in good condition in Woodside.
Fighting the gusts of wind, the 8’x4’ board acted much like the sail on a ship
as it cruised across the wide boulevard catching a gust of wind and taking its struggling
passengers along for the ride. The final Herculean feat consisted of getting the
board into the basement through the side door while acting stealthily so as not
to awaken us. The homemade horses which had been brought over on a previous
occasion awaited the arrival of the train set, tearing at the bit excited to do
their part in the project.
In retrospect this was a great gift both
in and of itself and as an example of self-sacrifice and thoughtfulness to see the wonder and excitement in the eyes
of a child.
Jim
Dec. 2021
