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By Alfred Bisson,
also known as Paul Sauve
Honourable Mention
Finally! I turned eight years old on June 25th and it was still a full six months to Christmas. Turning eight was an important milestone in our family. I could attend Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve, join my parents for the Â?reveillonÂ? after mass and find out for myself if the feast was anywhere near as tasty as rumored by my cousins.
I wondered if the party would live up to the billing it deserved after an eight year wait. It was going to be the best of Christmases.
Late September is when I first noticed the latest of hockey games sitting in Roberts Hardware store window.
Roberts always placed the latest toys in the largest window, knowing, of course, that all children from town drooled over the latest toys.
He knew these toys would end up at the top of most Christmas wish lists.
Every day as I walked to school and returned home at night, I stopped to stare for as long as I could at that hockey game.
The first week of December was always exciting at home as my brother, two sisters and I sat down with mother to prepare our Christmas list from the new EatonÂ?s catalogue.
This was also my mothers chance to guide our wishes toward gifts that mom and dad could afford.
Dolls, games, trucks were all discussed then it was my turn as I was the eldest.
Â?Mom all I want is a hockey game, and you can see it at Roberts Hardware store.Â?
Â?IÂ?ve noticed many times that you were staring at that hockey game but you know as well as I that your father and I canÂ?t afford to pay Santa for such pricey gifts.Â?
Mother explained that it was the first year in a long time that, as a family, we could buy a refrigerator and an electric stove since Mr. General Electric was now manufacturing domestic appliances again after the war.
Â?But mother I do not want anything else!Â?
Â?That hockey game is out of the question because it would cost your father half of a weekÂ?s salary!Â?
But I took a chance. My Christmas list only had one item, a red 1948 made in Canada Olympus Hockey Game, with a little note to Santa indicating that he could find one in Mr. RobertsÂ?s Hardware store.
Things were from bad to worse that December. The little snow that fell one day was gone by the next. Four days to Christmas and it felt more like Easter. My uncles were still golfing!
What is Christmas without snow! It was pouring rain! Two days to go and it is still raining!
Disaster, I was thinking, as I went to the hardware store.
I quickly entered the store, raced to the basement and discovered there was not one hockey game in site, where at least five were stacked before.
This was Christmas Eve and this was supposed to be the day before the big day! It was still raining. How bad can it get, I was thinking.
I was in bed by seven in order to be awakened at eleven to prepare for Midnight Mass.
While dressing I peeked outside every five minutes looking for snow. I put on my new socks, pants and shirt grandma bought us each year at Christmas.
On motherÂ?s insistence I wore boots whether I needed them or not.
Did she know something?
As we stepped outside heading for church I could tell it was cooler outside. A few snowflakes were falling as we entered the church. Walking down the aisle with the rest of the alter boys all dressed in our red cassocks, only worn on special occasions, was as great as it was hyped up to be.
The church choir sang like I had never heard them sing before. My mother and father seemed as proud as I was when I sneaked a small wave their way.
My heart was pounding as we left the church. The coat of white snow never looked so good!
Had Santa visited our town yet?
The procession of relatives headed for uncle TedÂ?s House grew larger and larger as we approached the house.
The aroma of food grew stronger and sweeter as we entered the house.
Aunt Marie had stayed home to prepare a feast worthy of kings. After a short time, things settled down to some serious eating and drinking.
Oddly enough the children were allowed to eat first as the adults were indulging in some eggnog. I ate until my tummy hurt. I enjoyed the meat pie, turkey, cranberry sauce, salads, and rolls of something I did not find out were cabbage rolls until later.
I also indulged in some ham, gravy, apple pie and sugar pie.
The food never seemed to end.
As more and more eggnog was consumed by the adults, the conversations grew louder and every so often one of my aunt or uncles swung into a Â?chanson a repondreÂ?.
During the commotion I checked the living room and my heart sank to my ankles.
Santa had come. I was anxious to head home.
But there was more eggnog, more songs, a little step dancing to the violin playing of cousin Norman, a square dance, more songs as all the children sat around enjoying it all in their corner.
A condition of returning the next year was to stay out of sight with no bickering or crying. By four in the morning, the party was still going strong as I fell asleep in the large rocking chair.
It was light by the time we left for home and my heart racing as fast as it could beat.
Had Santa come to my house? Are my sisters and brother up and waiting for us? We plodded through six inches of snow, greeting our neighbours as we headed home. Sisters and brother were up and waiting for us as I had waited for my parents in the past. Grandma was still knitting. I donÂ?t think she ever stopped. ThatÂ?s why we all had new socks every Christmas.
I took my boots off as fast as possible once we got home.
I rushed to look under the Christmas tree and my heart stopped as there was no hockey game.
It was a short time before mom and dad had removed their coats. I am sure I stopped breathing. I was as sad as can be.
Â?One more gift left in the kitchen as it was probably too large for Santa to wrapÂ?, said father.
I was first there and stared, mouth wide open, at the brand new 1948 made in Canada Olympus hockey game.
Hugs and kisses were not enough to thank my parents for the best Christmas I ever experienced.
The longest table top hockey tournament was held in our kitchen that year.
It lasted the rest of the Christmas holidays.
