Without as much as a knock or a team
giving a whistle, I noticed something leaning on my front door. Strange, I
thought. I had not noticed it before. Did Santa arrive while I was doing
household chores? Did I not hear the knock or the sleigh overhead? Needless to
say, I opened the door and there was a gigantic poinsettia plant! I did check
out the door, but there was no hint of a sleigh or a car! As it was quite
chilly, I brought in the gorgeous plant and looked for a card. No card. No
note. I decided I would start with my three boys sending them messages asking
if they had anything to do with the surprise delivery. It didn’t take long for
Aaron and Rachel to confess as the Santa Culprits! I thanked them for the
lovely, giant poinsettia as I gingerly moved it around from table to table
finding the best place to put it.
It is funny how memories pop up from
the recesses of our minds when we are not expecting it. As I was enjoying this
surprise gift, my own mind went back many years to the farm building years. It
was our first Christmas on the farm. No running water. No electricity. We were
living in an eight-foot travel trailer. The three boys were still under five
years old. The trailer was quite small for the five of us so each child could
just have one toy, one book, and their blankie. We substituted these items out,
except for the blankies, but nothing else would fit. A couple of weeks before
Christmas there was a note in the mailbox from Throop’s Florist. It was a
hand-written note that they tried to deliver something to us but didn’t really
know where to go so they just left a note. This was our first Christmas in
Indiana, and truthfully, I was pretty excited to see what was waiting for us!
I drove the old brown station wagon to
Throop’s with my note. I introduced myself and handed them the note. They all
smiled, and I waited while someone went into the back to get my surprise. When she
came back into the front room, she was carrying the biggest poinsettia plant I
had ever seen. I did not know how to even get it into my car. It was as big as
a bush. I knew right away it had to be from my Uncle Dean. I was right. He
wanted us to have a bit of Christmas while we were building that homestead. I thanked
them profusely and somehow got it into the car. On the drive home I had no idea
where I would put it when I arrived back at the farm. As I pulled it out of the
car, the boys were completely wide-eyed. I could barely get it into the door.
Once inside I set it down on the small table that doubled as a bed at night. Of
course, there was no room to eat or draw or color or anything so that didn’t
last long. If I put it outside, it would freeze and be ruined. I knew this was
the one and only Christmas tree for my boys that year, so I needed to think of
something. Finally, I had the great idea of putting it in the shower. I mean,
we weren’t using it anyway since we had no running water. Yes, the shower would
be perfect. It filled up the entire shower but looked beautiful. Somehow the
boys didn’t even notice it was in the shower, they loved the plant. Every once
in a while, they would go open up the shower day and say, “Let’s look at
Christmas!” They would stand in awe of that Christmas plant, and then shut the
door and go play.
My Uncle Dean was one of the most
generous men I have ever known in my life. I knew he wanted us to have a bit of
Christmas, but I am not sure he ever knew how much it actually meant to all of
us. Living off the land with three little boys was hard work, and that bit of
Christmas joy lasted all of us for months.
I reminded Aaron of the story, and he
said that of course he remembered. Rachel knew the story too.
We have all celebrated many
Christmases since then, but joy came to us that year in a giant plant.
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