A little Christmas story...from the Lass

When I remember Christmas past, vision of sugar plums do not dance in my head...but warm memories do. Today I discussed this with a man who purchased a bike for his son. He was so concerned about it being a surprise...how to wrap it...how to insure that the boy would open a gift...but how to disguise it....there was no box big enough...so we hatched a plan...but that is for later.

As we discussed the importance of the bike to the boy and the boy to the father...I mentioned the importance of certain things in life. I told him about my big wish...for a Pink Lady bike. This bike took on such meaning to me...that each night I would sit and look at a picture of it, torn from some magazine. I would envision myself riding this splendorous thing....pink...feminine...and just what I wanted. I could have wanted many things in my youth...but that bike just meant freedom...and a wonderful ride...something to transport me on my adventures....and I just knew...that my life would be made better by the bike.

Now my parents were not wealthy and truth be told...this bike was pricey...and I didn't really think that it would be possible. My mother kept telling me that there were children who were poor that would have no Christmas...so the bike should not represent too much...and not to be disappointed if I got a pair of jeans...Ok...so, I understood the poor children logic...and I understood the plight of my parents financial position at the time. I even understood that the Pink Lady was perhaps a little over the top...but one can dream.

So it was on Christmas morning that I awoke...very early. The house was bitter cold...and I put on my robe...slipped my feet into my fuzzy slippers and tip toed out into the living room. No box for a bike...but a nice little box under the tree...with my name...Jeans no doubt. I had a sudden tinge of disappointment...and then remembered what my mother had said...poor children would not have a Christmas at all...so...I decided to be grateful for whatever was in the box...and the Pink Lady...well that would still be a dream...

Then in the kitchen I heard my mother's voice singing softly...a Christmas tune...and my father finally woke up...and we were joined in the kitchen by my brother Tom...sis Jannine...still in the cabbage patch waiting for her turn at life...

Tom and I pleaded for the gift opening to begin...so we all went to the livingroom...to open gifts. I already had an idea of what mine was...so Tom opened his...no kidding folks...a BB gun...how Hollywood...Then it was my turn...so I gently unwrapped the paper making sure not to tear the paper...mom liked to recycle even then. I opened the box...and there was nothing there...but a picture...of a bike...Yikes...a picture? Then mom said..."Diana, looks like Santa was playing a joke..." What??? No gift??? Were we the poor children? No...Tom got a BB gun...

Then mom smiled and said...look outside...I think he left it there. And there it was in the driveway...a beautiful, shimmering, glorious...Pink Lady Bike...and it was all mine...I rushed outside...looked to heaven and for a moment felt a tinge of guilt for having so little faith in dreams...

Then I looked at my mother and knew...I will never know exactly what sacrifices she made to make this such a memorable Christmas...and if I am honest...I don't remember her having anything new that Christmas...but I do know this...whatever the sacrifice was...I am certain that she knew that I would be eternally grateful for the bike...and I was.

So it was that I told my little story to the man who was purchasing his son a bike...he smiled and said...I also got a BB gun...and a bike...and truth is...they both were important to me.

And how did we resolve the box thing? Well you are so smart...he took a page from the history of the Lass...and said...my son will be so surprised when he looks out the window...Yep...and as I walked the man out of the door of the store...I smiled and said...he will remember this you know...the man smiled back and said...you bet he will.

Merry Christmas everyone...and may you have a "bike" under the tree this year.










Modern version of the Pink Lady...and oh what adventures she and I shared...and a great memory of Christmas so long ago.