Ten writers for children. All with something to say.

12/28/09

The Best Christmas


When I was a young girl my family lived in Northern CA. At Christmastime we travelled over the Grapevine (a steep pass through the mountains from the Central Valley to the High Desert) to visit my favorite Grandma in Long Beach. Sometimes the wind was howling. Other times the pass was closed due to snow. But most of the time we made it through with no trouble.

The unpredictability of the weather stressed out my poor parents, but it excited me. It was Christmas, with the possibility of snow. It was the magic of the Polar Express in the safety of my own car, with my very capable parents at the helm.

When we arrived at Grandma's, she'd have the fire going and candles lit. Her dining room table would shimmer with her good china and silver. A feast would be awaiting us and afterwards, a good nap in my father's lap near the fire. I could hear the bell then. I wonder if I will hear it again someday.

8 comments:

Stephanie said...

What a lovely memory:)

Diane Adams said...

Thanks Stephanie. Hope you had a great Christmas.

David LaRochelle said...

You painted a beautiful picture of your grandmother's house waiting for you, Diane. I hope you found reasons to be happy this Christmas as well.

Christy said...

I also remember childhood trips over mountains to my grandparents' house. We lived outside Boston, and they lived in Troy, NY, north of Albany. The ride involved many, many choruses of "The Bear Went Over the Mountain." The summer before last I drove this route for the first time in years, reliving some of the same excitement. It was a challenge to remember exactly where the hairpin curve was, the state border, or other favorite markers. Your piece is vivid in detail and emotion. Thank you for reconnecting me with my own similar memories.

Edie said...

Diane,
What lovely memories--I could actually feel your excitement and visualize the waiting fire, the lit candles, and the shimmering table. I hope my grandchildren will have the same type of memories about coming to visit me!

Diane Adams said...

I hadn't thought of that memory for years and didn't realize how much it meant to me until I wrote it down. What a gift we give our children and grandchildren through our seemingly small actions that are done out of love. Christy, I'm glad you have similar memories of Christmas treks. Our song was The Ants Go Marching One by One.
Sorry to sound sorrowful about the bell. Christmas was good and I know that the bell will ring again for me when I least expect it.

Lauren said...

This is beautifully written-- and the nap in your father's lap sounds perfect-- I think you do hear the bell, every time you write.

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