My Fourth Grade Christmas Story

Hey Y’all!

I hope that everyone is having a wonderful week so far! This is my absolute favorite time of the year. It brings up so many memories growing up in South Carolina. I have such vivid memories, about my childhood.

 In the summers I would run and play with all my cousins. If you would like to read more about my adventures as a child, be sure to click here.  I lived for the summers running up and down the dirt roads, climbing trees, and just having fun.

I grew up poor  in a family where there were 10 children, so when the summers came to an end. School became my refuge, I always looked forward to going to school. I hated the weekends, because there was always fighting and unrest in the house. However, when Monday came I was excited to attend school, because it was where I found peace.

My Refuge: Claude A Taylor

I remember I was in fourth grade at Claude A Taylor Elementary School. Those were some of my best memories. I loved running down the dirt road off of Tree Street, and crossing the field to get to school. It was just before Christmas break, and in my house you already knew what you were getting for Christmas. Since I was the youngest girl and I had two younger brothers we always received a Christmas present.

My Fourth Grade Christmas Story

 

Now for my fourth grade  Christmas story, it  always started at the beginning of every year. I knew that I would be getting a bike, because it would be thrown in my face. It was like emotional blackmail, you would always hear “You better wash those dishes, you know you want that bike.” Or  “You better do that laundry, and mop that floor you know you want that bike.”

By the time December came, you wanted it all to be over,  you didn’t even care about the bike or anything else. If being emotionally blackmailed all year for a bike, wasn’t bad enough. Then, you had to sit and watch them put your bike together right in front of you on the front porch. After the bike was assembled it would be parked in a corner of the house, until Christmas Morning. You would have to walk around acting as if you didn’t see it.

 The First Christmas Tree

I still think it was my best Christmas that year, because at school we had decorated the most beautiful tree. It was over six feet tall, it was strung with popcorn, and covered in paper chains in different colors.  It didn’t have any lights, but it was still beautiful. When my teacher asked if anyone wanted to take the tree home. I quickly raised my hand unashamed,  because growing up we never had a Christmas tree.

I needed that  wonderfully decorated  tree, and I proudly, dragged that large tree all the way home that day. To this day, I remember my daddy, smiling as he put it in a large can of water, because it was a live tree.  Some of decorations on the tree were still in tact, that was a good day.

The happiest part of my Christmas story wasn’t receiving the bike. It was taking home that beautifully decorated tree that my family and I were able to enjoy because we never had one. For the first time it felt like a real Christmas because I was finally able to wake up and see a Christmas tree in our house.

 This will always be my favorite time of year, because it truly makes me happy and it always  reminds me of the handful of joyful times of my childhood.

Happy Holidays Everyone!

If you would like to read more  adventures about living in the south, be sure to click here.