Christmas from long ago.

I don't know a specific Christmas as the "first" Christmas I remember.  I have memories of the years we lived on 3rd East in Salt Lake.  I understand we moved there from an apartment near downtown-I think it was on 5th North-when I was about 2 years old.  The first memory-the earliest?-is of the ornament we had on top of our Christmas tree when I was young.  I don't know if this is a direct memory or if it was planted by photographs with the said tree-topper on a Christmas tree in the background.   I guess it doesn't matter.  The top of the tree ornament was a star with Santa's face on it.  My parents/family was not an overly religious family as I was growing up.  Circumstances of life brought my parents together, and they were from quite diverse backgrounds.  That is a story for another time.  As a result, Santa played the major role in our home from Christmas time.  At least it did in my young boy's mind.
As I consider things now, having the Jolly Old Elf's face on a plastic star, which I'm sure was to represent the star over Bethlehem, was not really counter to the spirit of the season.  When I was a young kid, Santa was an old, wise, trustworthy adult who rewarded children for being good.  Even in our lower middle class circumstances (of which I knew nothing, other than we were just another regular family), Santa gave me hope.  And I think I tried to be a better, kinder kid because of his influence.  I don't remember feeling greedy as I tried to qualify for Christmas gifts from the old Saint.  One thing we children did know-Santa loved us.  Not necessarily the Santa's helper at Sears, but the real Santa loved all the children.  I was not a deep enough thinker at that young age to consider those who got nothing, or next to it, for Christmas, that perhaps they weren't as loved.  Maybe that was because, when we were young, I don't recall many friends getting much less than I did.  I also don't remember, at least through 4th or 5th grade, doing any comparing of Christmas hauls. Things start to change about then.
There were a few constants in my early Christmas memories.  Our stockings seemed to always have oranges and Christmas candy in them.  My mom always made fruitcakes for Christmas.  And I always ate as much as I could.  Or as much as I was allowed.  Yes, I did wear Sears "Husky" jeans...
We often drove downtown to see the lights.  "Downtown" was much smaller.  I don't recall ever going to Temple Square.  I don't know if they did the Christmas lights in the late '50's.  We would drive up and down State and Main to see the lights.  Sears always had a window display that we would stop and look at.  I don't recall ever going to ZCMI to see their windows-but then we were Sears shoppers-not ZCMI.
We spent time with cousins.  There were several of my mom's siblings in town, and we would visit them over the holidays.  We also made fudge and divinity at Christmas time.  Both confections required just the right amount of cooking and then lengthy serious beatings.  And they were delicious treats.  I'm sure we did not consume nearly as much sugar as kids do now, so any sweet treat was a treat indeed, and Christmas was the best time of year for them.
My brothers and I-I'm the middle of three boys-would sit with our legs over the floor heater grate and consider what we might ask Santa to bring us.  New boots, a small toy, or even-could you imagine-a new bicycle!
We always had a Christmas tree.  Dad would find a tree that needed branches moved.  Every year.  We would bring home this unbalanced, scraggly tree and dad would cut off some of the lower branches, drill holes where there were blank spots and plug in the cut off branches.  I thought our trees were always wonderful.   And inexpensive!  With ornaments hung with fishing line.  I would sit and spin them, watching my reflection revolve for hours it seemed like.  We also always hung leaded, shiny icicles one the branches.  One   by    one.  It only took forever to get enough on to please mom and dad.
My father was from Florida.  He made an operator-assisted long distance phone call to his mother every Christmas.  That was one of 3 calls I remember him making to his mother each year.  The other 2 were on Mothers' Day and her birthday.  That was special because of the time, effort and expense involved.   We rarely were permitted to spend any time on the phone listening to grandma Edge's lovely southern drawl because it cost too much to spend much time on such a phone call.
And then there were times when our family had our struggles at Christmas time.  The time of celebration was often celebrated a bit too much.  Another tale for another day.
Underlying all of this was a sense that there was something more-something deeper-supporting and causing the increase in love and kindness that we felt at Christmas.  Increasing our tenderness.  We did sing "spiritual" Christmas songs in school.  Manger scenes were proudly displayed.  I knew, at least once I was in Madison Elementary, that Christmas was about Christ.  That knowledge was supported by my primary and junior sunday school teachers-valiant sisters who worked the best they could with the material they had.  I know they are blessed for sharing their love and touching the hearts of those of us who didn't have much Gospel teaching in our homes.  I am grateful that they helped start a spark in mine when I was young.
Some specific Christmas yarns to come.