By Ron O’Clair

My earliest recollections of Christmas are happy ones. As a child, anticipating the coming of Santa Claus was a wonderful thing. Like most children, I truly believed there was a Santa Claus and wrote my letters to Santa asking for any number of the toys that were popular that particular year. Of course, I asked for a lot more than I received, believing in my heart that I was worthy due to my having been a good boy during the year.

It was an age of innocence that gradually changed over the years into a realization that my parents, relations and friends were the true source of the gifts that I had received that Christmas. Perhaps the best gift of all was getting to spend time together as a family celebrating the holiday season.

I say that because there were two Christmas’s that I did not get to spend at home while growing up during the time I actually still believed in Santa Claus. One Christmas was spent here in the city on Caro Street with foster parents while my mother was hospitalized and my father could not care for the younger children, myself, and my brother Donald who is two years older than me. I remember that I got a motorized Fire engine that year with working lights and siren, ladders, and all of the various firefighting equipment. That gift came from the social worker who was handling our case. It may have come from the T&G Santa through the social worker, but I seem to remember that the social worker was involved in the giving of the gift. It helped to take my mind off the heartache of missing my parents that year.

Another Christmas, the very next one I believe came when my brother Donald and I were again separated from our parents. My father had driven the two of us up to Maine to live with my father’s sister, my Aunt Edna and her children. Other than the usual clothes, the only gift that I can remember for sure that year was a bubble bath dispenser shaped like an animal that had a long neck on the plastic bottle, but it was not a giraffe, I think it was a cat. What I really wanted that Christmas was for my parents to be together and come for me to take me home to Massachusetts.

My father did come for that Christmas, but he did not bring our mother, he brought someone else, and I met his second wife Jean that Christmas. I did not know anything about divorce, and could not understand why my mother and my father did not live together anymore.

Going back to Massachusetts happened later that year, in August I believe it was, and my father and his new wife asked Donald and I if we wanted to live with them, or with our mother. We chose to live with our mother, and when we got back to Worcester we were dropped off at mother’s apartment on Princeton Street in time for me to start my third grade, so I must have been eight years old that summer when my birthday came in May. We moved into an apartment in a house that burned to the ground some years after we had moved away. The place where the house was is now the neighbor’s yard.

We lived there at 28 Princeton Street for a number of years and I went to Cambridge Street Elementary School, then on to Providence Street Junior High School. Many a Christmas was spent there on Princeton Street. Though we did not have much, many happy memories remain from those days.

I remember one year in particular that my brother in law, my sister Dorothy’s husband came to the house in the most ridiculous Santa suit you ever saw. It was an impulse buy that he had found at a supermarket on Christmas Eve and it was made entirely of plastic sheeting like garbage bag material colored with red and white, it come with a hat, and with a cheap wide black plastic belt to go around the waist, I don’t recall, but it may have even had a cheap plastic beard to go with it. It was the most ridiculous thing you ever saw, but the younger two brothers loved it. Anthony meant well, and brought gifts. My sister Dorothy always managed to give gifts, and she still does to this day even though I tell her not to bother, as I rarely buy gifts for anyone these days with my limited income.

My mother, may God rest her soul, always did the best that she could to make certain that her children had a merry Christmas and was a great source of Christmas spirit to her children. She taught us the joy of giving, without expecting anything in return. One gift that I remember from the Princeton Street days was a miniature pool table with spring loaded cues and little balls. I did not care for it much, but the thought was what counted. I played with it anyway. I miss my mother and wish that I had had her in my life longer than I did.

My sister Dorothy used to spend hours and hours knitting mittens and scarves for us kids when she had no money to buy gifts. Like my mother, she gave from the heart, and I sure appreciated it on those cold winter days. She always remembered to give gifts each Christmas even though sometimes I know that she was having a hard time making ends meet.

Sometimes the best gift of all is being able to spend time with your family during the holiday season. We kids had a lot of fun growing up on Princeton Street during the winter. We used to go down to the wall on Southbridge Street after heavy snowfalls and jump off from various heights into the fresh snow banks after the streets were plowed. When there was enough snow, which was often, we could jump from the apex of the wall at the highest spot. We had a blast. Then we would also go to the Holy Cross athletic fields along McKeon Road and slide down the hills on all manner of sleds, sometimes with an empty cardboard box from the A&P Supermarket when nothing else was available. We always found a way to have fun without spending much money.

Jumping off the wall was great fun. It was so much fun one day, that the next day I went right down to the wall with my expectation of having another blast of fun jumping off the wall into the snow banks. What I did not realize was that there had been a cold snap overnight and the snow banks froze solid. I jumped off the wall expecting a soft landing and nearly bit off my tongue when my knees hit my chin. I learned to appreciate science after that experiment.

During the snow storms we would also hitch rides on the back bumpers of cars going along Southbridge Street and ski down the road on our footwear clinging to whatever car we had happened to grab onto. That was when cars had bumpers that stuck out from the rear of the vehicle so you could get a handhold on the bumper. It would not work with the cars of today with the integrated bumpers. It is amazing that none of us got seriously hurt doing the things we did. We always managed to have fun though without having to spend much money doing it.

I will try to remember the Christmas spirit this year, as I try to do every year, but the days of joy at the prospect of opening gifts is long gone. I give to local charities when I come across them as I am able, and I greet people with exuberance, and wish them a Merry Christmas as much as possible. It costs nothing to wish a stranger a Merry Christmas, and helps to spread the holiday cheer.

In the spirit of giving this Christmas, I urge you readers to consider giving of yourself to help others for the sense of satisfaction you receive in the giving. Perhaps the greatest gift of all is the gift of life, and you can give that gift at no cost to you by donating blood through the American Red Cross. The holiday season is always a time of need for blood, so please consider becoming a donor this year. You also get peace of mind, as your blood is checked for numerous diseases and the Red Cross will contact you if there are any problems with it. Your blood may just be responsible for saving someone’s life, what better gift could you give?

I wish to extend holiday greetings to all who read this – Happy New Year, as well.

I’d love to hear from you readers. Let me know if you liked this article, or even if you did not like it. You may contact me at: ronaldoclair@hotmail.com