When I was child, the morning of Christmas Eve was filled with extreme excitement.
Santa Claus had come, yes on Christmas Eve morning. we knew this because… THE CURTAIN WAS UP.
My grandfather Viggo had built the house, and it had archways leading from kitchen to dining room, from dining room to living room.
My older Siblings and I would come down the stairs from our bedrooms and run to that curtain. Knowing once we saw it that good ole Santa Claus had been there, and we also knew we were forbidden from peaking under or around the curtain to see what was under the tree. The Television was in that room, which meant NO TV that day. We had to make ourselves busy in other ways. Battleship was a game we would play.
Sometimes we’d get slick and send the cat (Spook) under the curtain. We’d lay our heads on the floor to peak, and of course the cat did it, so we were still in good standing.
The day would drag on and on, and eventually dinner was served. Half way through we’d start asking if we could go through and start the presents. Dinner was over and we were asking and pleading, but not yet, for all the dishes and the kitchen had to be cleaned, and put away before we could break down the curtain and unwrap our gifts. It was an amazing moment filled with anticipation. Mother would go through first only to plug in the Christmas tree lights. She would come out and would then figure another way to delay for just another moment or two. Something which added to the thrill of that moment when we were told it was ok to break through the curtain to see the gifts and the tree.
We’d open gifts and form our own piles separating them from each others.
We would then attend church and come home to bed. The next day, actual Christmas day would be about visiting a slew of cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. Of course more gifts came with every visit. It was a child’s dream come true year after year.
Hears to happy memories, may there be many more for you all.