Christmas Cry Baby

See the little girl to the left, well.......that is me.  Yes, I was in the 6th grade that year, and I just realized my hubby was a senior in high school when this was taken.  Yep, December 1959.  Man oh man............he really DID rob the cradle!!

Take a look at that sad girl.  Pathetic little thing.  I am glad I have this picture, but frankly the image is etched in my memory forever.  That was the first year I did not get a doll for Christmas.  Three gifts......three gifts........only three gifts and they are all in that picture.  Look at that nice satchel...yes, that is what we called them.  Inside was a nice Bible story book ( I remember thinking I was too old for that book, but ironically I still wanted a doll), but look to my left at the nice blue bicycle.  The fact that I got a bike didn't matter one iota.  Nope, I just didn't want to leave my doll years behind.  I knew that I would have to give up playing with dolls eventually, but surely not before the rest of my sisters did, and not that year.  My three little sisters got these beautiful baby dolls, plus all the tea sets, the doll clothes, etc, and all I got was a lousy bike.  Nope, I was not a happy camper.  My brother got a bike, too, but he wasn't crying, just me.      

I fell off the bike as soon as I got on it, and it hurt.  You can see me holding my bottom, but I wasn't really crying because I hurt myself, I was jealous of my sisters and their dolls and their stash of toys.  (When this picture was taken, I distinctly remember I was crying because I was jealous.  Even at 12 years old I knew was jealous that they got so many toys and I got three things.  For me, at least that year, it was about abundance rather than quality.)  I was jealous....  Never mind that my bike probably cost more than the rest of theirs toys.  So tonight as I reminisce, it makes me sick at my stomach to think how I must have hurt my parents feelings.  They were probably thrilled that they were able to get me such an extravagant gift...........and I cried.

Even though I was sad that year, it was a good Christmas.  All our Christmases were because we were a happy family except for the ingrate daughter.  I'd love to be wearing that soft pink flannel nightgown that my mom had made for me, even would love to have the soft permed hair - again that mom gave me.  I guess we were a pretty self-sufficient family, huh?

Eventually I got over being sad, taught myself how to ride and my brother and I spent many fun hours riding on that dusty gravel road. 

This picture also gives you a glimpse into our home.  Notice the floral linoleum and the floral wall paper.  The vinyl blue-gray covered divan - yep, Mom covered that, too.  She was a talented woman.  The back on the divan folded back to make a somewhat uncomfortable bed.  Behind me was mom and dad's room and you can kind of see the rails of my baby sister's bed.  Surely, she wasn't still in that baby bed at 4 years old, but we were kind of crowded so maybe so.  I would love to have that door now.  I would love to have that moment again to change my sad face into a beaming happy face and to tell my folks how thrilled I was for that bike and to thank them for their sacrifice they made that year to give me such an extravagant gift.  Thank you Mom and Dad.

I will share another Christmas Cry Baby soon.  I love you all.