I was asked to take a sentimental walk down memory lane to do my part for These Simple Gifts release week. Considering the title and the fact it’s a Christmas book, makes sense author Jennifer Sienes would ask me to tell y’all about my most memorable Christmas gift. Oh, and before I forget, make sure to enter for a chance to win a $50 Amazon Gift Card after my story.
Back to the gift. Wouldn’t have made a difference what the occasion was, I’ll remember getting that present till the day I die. Must’ve been twelve that Christmas, and I’d been begging Mama and Daddy for that particular gift more than a year. Had about given up on the notion that they’d support my fool-hardy dream.
It was one of the few Christmases we got ourselves some snow. Cold as could be outside, but Daddy had kept a fire burning in the wood stove all night long. Derek and me got up real early that Christmas morning—like we always did. Wasn’t expecting much. Or I shouldn’t of been. Never did have us a lot of money, what with Daddy farming and working a side job for the county so Mama could stay home with us.
There were still red-hot embers in the wood stove, and of course, Derek, the dutiful son, tended to it, so it’d be roaring by the time Mama and Daddy came down. While he did that, I plugged in the lights on the Christmas tree and started rooting around to see what all had been added after we’d gone to bed the night before. Like I said before, we didn’t expect much. Best gift I’d received before that year was a jack knife. That ol’ saying about big things coming in small packages didn’t set well with me. What I wanted wasn’t gonna fit in some itty-bitty box.
Derek grunted. “Best not let Daddy catch you diggin’ through the presents. Might just find yourself left with nothing but a lump of coal.”
Ignoring him, I cozied up to the back end of the tree to see if anything had been stashed there. No luck. Disappointment sat thick in my belly.
“Nicky?” I turned to find Mama in the doorway, Daddy right behind her. “Lookin’ for something in particular?” Her eyes narrowed some.
“No, ma’am,” I mumbled.
“Y’all got stockings under the tree.” She shuffled into the family room on slippered feet and picked up a bulging red stocking. “Merry Christmas, son.” She put into my arms like it was a baby and kissed my cheek.
“Merry Christmas.” Tried to force some enthusiasm into my voice, but it was kinda hard to get excited over a few tangerines and school supplies.
Daddy, rubbing the stubble on his jaw, turned and walked himself toward the kitchen. Never did have much to say before his coffee.
“Here you go, Derek. Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” Mama gave Derek his stocking and kissed his cheek same as she’d done me. “I’m gonna go get myself a cup of coffee, and then we’ll open up some presents.”
After she was gone, Derek dropped onto the couch and set the stocking on the floor. “Didn’t really expect to get yourself a guitar, did you?” Couldn’t hardly take his sympathy. What did he care anyway? Never had himself a dream. All he talked about was joining the military.
“Nah.”
“Well,” Daddy said from the doorway, “that’s a real shame.” A grin broke free. “Don’t know that I can take this back, since we got it on sale.”
Mama stepped out from behind him, hanging onto the neck of the Taylor American Dream guitar I’d been drooling over for the last year with a big red bow attached. All my dreaming about it wasn’t near as great as actually having that beauty in my hands. Didn’t put it down all day, and if I’m remembering right, slept with it Christmas night, too.
Looking back on that day, I’d have to say what comes to mind now more than anything is that Mama and Daddy believed in me. The guitar I could’ve bought—eventually—but the fact they went to all the trouble and expense stayed with me since. Every time I’d get discouraged, I’d picture Daddy’s grin while Mama handed me that guitar. Best gift ever wasn’t the guitar, though; it was their support.
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