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GLEANINGS FROM THE GROVE







        MEMORIES OF CHRISTMAS PAST






        Paul C. Fanning, DTM







      The trees are set up in the living room, St.           with my name on it. I carefully reach under the
      Nicholas and friend guarding one and the other         branches and pull the box towards me. What was

      by Theodore E. Bear and his buddy Frosty. The          wrong with giving it a little shake. . .or two? No
      ornaments glisten, the candy canes beckon one          noise, silent like the night, and then it hit me. I
      to come and sample them, and the greens (fake)         could most carefully begin to un-wrap it and see
      look real in the semi-darkness. On the medium          if I could determine what it was. It seemed like

      sized table covered in white with flecks of silver,    hours of cautiously pulling the tape off enough to
      and the cotton pretending to be snow, a small          begin to see a corner of the gift emerge. It was a
      forest of trees with an old wooden stable is filled    wild west fort, hopefully one like Corporal Rusty
      with animals and people of Provence awaiting           and Rin-Tin-Tin resided in. Back went the tape,

      the coming foretold to them by a dog and an            package swiftly pushed back under the tree and
      idiot! (Remember Ravi from an article about            the ever-silent retreat to the bedroom for me to
      Christmas past?) I can sit in my chair, and lean       dream about what I
      back, thinking. . .remembering. . .and gosh, the       would be doing with

      aria “Memories” from “Cats” by Andrew Lloyd            that toy tomorrow on
      Webber is running through my head. The most            Christmas Day!
      wonderful time of the year, right? Except the              I am up early—
      “Memories” version I am hearing is from “School        after all it is Christmas.

      of Rock” being sung by the girl who cannot sing        Out I go from the
      or carry a tune, but screeches it out much to the      bedroom back to the
      horror and amazement of the rest of the school.        living room, but faster
      Yes, you see, not all memories are so precious,        and more noisily

      but they are at least amusing!                         than the night before.
          Take for example one from Pittsburg,               There before me were
      Pennsylvania, circa 1960. It is Christmas Eve.         my Grandparents and
      I am at my grandparents’ house, supposed to            my Parents, drinking

      be snug and asleep in bed, but I managed to            tea or coffee. I greet
      sneak out to the living room and peek under the        them with a “Merry
      Christmas Tree. Ah, yes—presents! Gifts well           Christmas” and
      wrapped and taped with ribbons, etc. I see one         loudly proclaim a




       26     ONE COMMUNITY
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