THE DESK - A CHRISTMAS STORY

It was Christmas day. I looked forward to Christmas. Relatives would visit and I would get a couple of pairs of socks from my Uncle Donald. I always got socks from him.

I loved looking at the paper angel embedded in a cotton cloud which topped the tree. The smell of the pine needles floated over me as my sister and I decorated the bare tree. My Grandma and Aunt would praise my untrained skills.

Afterwards, my sister and I would lie on our stomachs and play with the manger scene over and over again, placing all the figurines in different positions. I sucked on ribbon candy and smelled the pork roast cooking in the oven.

A stranger came to the door at the bottom of the attic steps. I stood at the top feeling the chill coming from the open door. I didn't know him but I watched as he delivered a desk for me. I loved to study and would use it in the hallway where I could have privacy.

There was no present for my sister. I didn't know what to think. I watched, numbed and turned inward. I knew my sister would be upset. Christmas was for everyone including her. At least, that was how it was supposed to be. In the eyes of my grandmother and aunt, I felt myself become more and more invisible.

Grandma was mad. Her Irish temper and her grandmother bear spirit braced her as she swung on her black wool coat and rushed down the stairs and into the onslaught of snow flurries.

I visualized her fighting her way down Cherry Street over to Main Street and heading north to Sharky's. Sharky's was a hardware store that would be open on a holiday. I saw her snow boots barely protecting her feet and ankles from the ten inches of snow that had fallen. Her hands tucked into the sleeves of her overcoat, chin down to protect her face.

She reappeared with a box containing a doll. The doll was for my sister. My sister wasn't going to be without a Christmas present even if my Grandma had to brave the harsh snow to get it for her.

As the day continued, my sister played with her doll and I tentatively investigated the desk.  I looked at all the nooks and crannies while the day's events seared the back of my mind.

I rarely felt good about the presents my father gave me. They only reminded me of the presents my sister never received. Every gift came with guilt.