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The Best Christmas Ever
The Great Depression of 1929 had lasting effects on our family, as it
did on most families of that era. Dad was employed in Pittsburgh,
Pennsylvania, at the time of the Wall Street crash, although he and
Mother had been born and reared in Texas. A miscarriage had left Mother
sick and weak. Due to the cold weather my little sister Gwen was ill
much of the time. The doctor told Dad that Gwen and Mother would not
live through another winter in the north and suggested that he move our
family back to Texas. That warning was enough for him. We moved back to
Texas within two days.
There Dad rented a farm. He began making a
crop that spring. Since Dad had no farming equipment, he had to make
other arrangements. He and his brother, Dave, made an agreement that Dad
would use Dave's team and implements to work Dad's land. For every
half-day he used the team, Dad worked a full day in Dave's field hoeing,
plowing, or doing any of the other necessary chores on a farm. No money
changed hands in this arrangement, just labor.
When Christmas was
drawing near, my parents knew there would not be much money with whch to
purchase gifts for their two little girls. Gwen and I were blissfully
unaware of the dilemma that faced our parents. However; they were a
"make-do" couple.
Mother bought two baby dolls at the
five-and-ten-cent store for twenty-five cents each. While we were in
school, she sewed clothes for those dolls, using leftover fabric from
our clothes. My doll was dressed in clothes made from the fabric from my
dresses, and Gwen's doll was dressed in clothes made from fabric from
her dresses. Then Mother crocheted little shoes, caps, and blankets for
the dolls. We had flannel nightgowns that Mother had made for us.
Naturally, she used the leftover flannel cloth to make gowns and even
diapers for the dolls.
At the time, the grocery stores bought
apples and oranges in wooden crates and gave the crates away to anyone
who wanted them. Dad got two of the crates. Since he didn't have a saw,
he used his pocketknife to whittle the apple crates into two cradles for
the dolls. The crops were gathered and the land was "laid by," so he
could work on them while Mother was working on the doll's clothes. After
he had finished the carving, he sanded the cradles and Mother painted
them pale pink. They kept all of these items hidden from our view so
that they would be a surprise on Christmas morning.
Our parents
always greeted our return from school with smiles and hugs from our
parents. They were always so cheerful that they made arriving home a
pleasure. There was no doubt that we were loved. Every word and gesture
confirmed it.
On Christmas morning Gwen and I were so thrilled
with our baby dolls! "Just look, Gwen," I said. "My doll has a dress
just like my favorite dress--and yours has a dress just like yours!" We
oohed and aahed over each item and spent the day changing the dolls from
one outfit to another. We rocked our baby dolls in their cradles, sang
to them, rocked them while sitting in Mother's rocker, and when night
came we put them to bed in their little cradles and tucked them in, just
as our mother did us.
In later years, when Gwen and I were
reminiscing about our favorite times, that "best Christmas ever" was
brought to mind. The wonder of it all was still with us. Mother said
that she and Dad were distressed because they had so little for their
children that year, but they never let us know it. After the day was
over, when they had seen how happy their little girls were, they agreed
that it had been one of the best.
Lowell McCormack
Gainesville, Texas
Published:
November 14,
2005
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