Christmas Day by Trish Hubschman

Christmas Day by Trish Hubschman

Christmas Day

By Trish Hubschman

When I was a little girl and in my early teens, we had a method for beginning Christmas Day. I was always the first one to wake up. Maybe I never fell asleep the night before. Maybe I wanted to see or hear if Santa came. The living room, where the Christmas tree stood, was next to my bedroom. We didn’t have a chimney, but Mom said she kept the back door in the laundry rom downstairs unlocked, so Santa could get in. This seemed reasonable enough, so I didn’t question it. But hard as I tried, and I did try, I didn’t hear Santa. I always told Mom and she’d say it was because I fell asleep, which is the way it should be.

It was still dark outside when I pulled back my covers the next morning. I was tired of lying there waiting for someone to come in and wake me up. I got out of bed, didn’t put on slippers or a robe and quietly slid my bedroom door open. I didn’t want to wake Mom and Dad up. Their bedroom was practically in mine.

It was super quiet outside my room. That was good. I took a quick peak to the left to see the brightly lit up Christmas tree. I giggled. I’m not supposed to peak. I slapped my hand over my mouth and tiptoed to the stairs and down. My older sister and brother, Barry and Betty’s, rooms are downstairs.

When I took the last step down and my feet were on the very cold tile floor, I was actually able to breathe. Mom and Dad wouldn’t hear me down here. I didn’t have to tiptoe anymore. I walked past the laundry room. I giggled. I was almost going to go in there and check to see if Mom had left the back door unlocked like she’d said for Santa, but maybe he had locked it when he left. I just walked past it and went into Betty’s bedroom. They were both awake and waiting for me.

“What are we going to do now?” I asked. We were down here and the presents and the parents were upstairs.

“It’s still dark out,’ Betty said. “Mayee we should wait a little while before we go upstairs.”

I looked at her. What was she nuts? It was Christmas. Mom and Dad could sleep any other day of the year. We had to get upstairs and open our presents before it got too light out, then we might miss Christmas. That was one of my biggest fears in life. We had to spend Christmas up the block with Dad’s folks and sister and her family and wed have to eat breakfast and go to church first. There wasn’t enough time to do everything, so we had to start out as early as possible.

{I think we should go upstairs,” Barry said. “If the folks are still asleep, well wait for them to get up.”

I nodded. I was a go with the first part, but I didn’t want to have to wait. So, the three of us climbed the stairs noisily. Mom and Dad met us at the top of the stairs. Our baby sister, Claire, was already sitting on the floor playing with a new toy.

“Hey, that’s not fair,’ I wanted to yell, but I didn’t. It was still dark out and we had plenty of time to open our presents, play with them, then go to church. I ran and sat on the floor on my side of the tree.

. . .

Trish Hubschman is the author of the Tracy Gayle mystery series: Tidalwave, Stiff Competition, Ratings Game, Uneasy Tides, and Gayle’s Tales.

Trish is a graduate of Long Island University’s Southampton Campus and has a Bachelor’s degree in English-writing. She is deaf-blind and lives in South Carolina with her husband, Kevin, and their dog, Henry.

Visit Trish on her Author Website here.

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2 Comments

  1. Trish Hubschman Reply
    December 14, 2023

    This memory left a lasting smile on my face. On Mom’s too, I think. She used to say Christmas in our house looked like a Macy’s display window. And it wasn’t what the gifts were but the ripping open of wrapping paper that was the most fun. I miss my childhood happy days, but I’ll always have my memories.

  2. Hi, Trish. It was a great post. It’s hard to feel the Christmas spirit these days. Reading stories like these help.

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