Mom and Dad 1958I used to love Christmas Eve especially after 1960. In 1960 we were waiting for Santa with bated breath. It had gotten dark early that night, and my little brothers and sister were getting excited because Santa was due. He was really coming to our house. We were all a little sad though, because Mommy and Daddy were not there. Mommy had gone to the hospital to have a baby on the 19th. Robert Paul was born, yet back then ( I know, the way back machine, women were allowed to stay in the hospital for about a week after having a baby) Mommy was not going to be home for Christmas... at least that is what I thought.
There was a knock on the door, and when my brother opened it up, we had the delight of our lives. In walked Santa! But the biggest surprise was when Santa walked over to me and handed me my Christmas present first. Wrapped up in a Christmas stocking with a little cap was a beautiful doll, or so I thought at first. It sure was a doll, a living doll, because Santa gave me a real baby, Robert Paul by name. I looked into that beautiful face and fell madly in love ... and stayed that way forever. I ran into my bedroom with him in my arms, and got out my doll crib to see if he would fit. He did. Well I figured my Christmas was as perfect as it could be. But it wasn't over yet.
Santa was being jolly and giving out presents to my other little brothers and sister, when there was another knock on the door. The kids were so excited they fell over themselves to get to the door and were screaming with delight because in walked Mommy and Daddy. As far as we were concerned we were in nirvana. After we hugged and kissed them, Mommy asked where the baby was, and I asked her what baby? She said the baby, Robert Paul, that Santa had brought in to surprise us with. I said you mean the beautiful living doll that was given to me for Christmas? She said yes. I told her I had put him down in my doll crib to nap while all the excitement was going on. Mommy looked rather shocked and looked at Daddy who broke out in hysterical laughter. Santa was cracking up too. The little kids had no idea what was going on, just that everyone was happy. Daddy asked if he could see my new doll and I told him if he was quiet he could see him. He went to the bedroom and cracked up, Robert Paul was sound asleep in my doll crib (which was a handmade wooden crib that my grandfather had made me the year before, it was built like a rock). Daddy asked if he could pick the "doll" up and I told how to do it safely, (support the head and put him in the "roock" of your arm). My father had a wonderful sense of humor and humored me and walked into the living room with my "doll".
My father walked into the living room and started to give the baby to my mother, but stopped short and asked me if it was okay for Mommy to hold my "doll". I told daddy "Don't be silly Daddy, Mommy made him for me." I am not sure who laughed the hardest, Santa or my parents. After some questioning my parents realized that I *believed* Santa when he said that the baby was my Christmas present. After this realization they had to have Santa find my "real" gift, which was a baton, which I had wanted, *BEFORE* Santa gave me my "living doll". I relented and let Mommy have the baby, on the condition she would share him, which she did till 1977.
On Nov. 2, 1977, my living doll, Bobby was killed in a car accident on the way home from school......I will never stop loving him and seem to always shed some tears on Christmas Eve for him, My Mother told me that each Christmas Eve she would remember the lovely story of how Bobby came home. She told me before she died, it was one of the most cherished moments in her life, because after all I was only 10 and trusted Santa and my parents, so believed anything they told me. Mother said that the man who played Santa was a member of our American Legion and would tell the story for years afterwards.
Bobby loved his first Christmas story ....and so do I, even if it is bittersweet. Bobby would curl up in the rocker with me and ask me to tell him the story every year...it was our special story.
I hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas Eve story for themselves.
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