A Wonderful Gift

This column was first published here on December 22, 2010.
Edited versions were subsequently published,with permission of the author,
in print and online editions of community newspapers across Chicago.

As promised last week, I have left the People’s Republic of Christmas and will offer a few observations about my Christmases.

Here are a few of my memories. I recall my mom taking me and my sisters to Talman Savings & Loan’s headquarters at 55th and Kedzie to visit Santa Claus and share our Christmas lists with him.

To an adult, the Talman building projected everything that Talman founder Ben F. Bohac wanted: strength, stability, modern efficiency.

To a child, Talman projected one thing: big.

So it was a little intimidating walking in there---from the parking lot at the south end of the building to the north end where Santa was enthroned was almost a full block. In a way, it was like the long walk to see the Wizard of Oz.

But in the end, the Talman staff were always very warm and friendly to the kids; and as I recall, they gave us treats and probably those little “junior saver” booklets that encouraged us to save our dimes.

And the Talman Santa and elves were doubtless every bit as good as their counterparts at Marshall Field’s.

My husband recalls his boyhood visits to Santa---sometimes at the Sears at 62nd and Western, sometimes at Ford City after the cool new shopping center opened in 1964.

Christmas, when I was growing up, came in two segments, Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, both equally important. Christmas Eve was when my mother’s side of the family gathered at one of three homes; hers, or her older or younger brother’s. There was quite a crowd, My grandparents, my parents, the aunts and uncles and all the kids, 14 cousins. We were very quite close in age and vocal enough to make the noise in a stadium seem like a quiet murmur. The highlight of the evening was the sleigh bells ringing (my uncle always seemed to remember to bring bells every Christmas Eve) and then the deep “Ho! Ho! Ho!” The children would always return the greeting with unbridled excitement in their voices and bodies, “Santa!” The gifts would be given out, Santa’s voice booming above the noise created by so many. The ripping of paper and laughter of children and their parents rang out. After everyone received a gift, Santa would depart, warning the children to be good and that he would see them again next year. The children would still be excited, but the end of the evening would be coming soon because most of us headed out to Midnight Mass.

It isn’t the presents-I mean socks aren’t really that exciting-that has us continuing this tradition to this very day, except on the Saturday before Christmas Eve, but the gift of being together. The noise can still leave a ringing in your ears.

Those original children, my cousins, sisters and me, now have children who add to the celebration-and confusion.

Christmas Day usually dawned early. At least one of my sisters would rise early and wake the rest of us. I remember tiptoeing into the front room one year. The lights on the tree illuminated darkened living room. Daylight was a whisper away and I stared awestruck at all the presents under the tree. The parents would eventually get up, coffee would be made and the unwrapping frenzy began. Think “A Christmas Story” times six.

After the cleanup, along with the accompanying whining, everyone had to get dressed, the youngest with mom’s help. (I’m not sure how Mom found time to get dressed.) We were heading off to my dad’s side of the family, specifically to see my grandmother.

At one point my grandmother lived above her mom-and-pop store in Canaryville. It was the coolest place in the world to me because Gram had a candy counter that featured so many different types of penny candy. It was a child’s dream come true.

On Christmas evening we would eat and then, before dessert, the presents! No Santa, but we knew he was resting up in the North Pole after exhausting Christmas Eve. I remember thinking Grandma might have had a small place, but it had the promise of more treats downstairs!

Finally, after the adults got their fill of conversation, we would head home. Sometimes I dozed off, listening, their words not really registering, just a comforting hum in the background. Family, food and living the true meaning of Christmas. It’s a wonderful gift.

See you next week...

Joan Hadac is a Chicago news/feature reporter, editor and columnist.
Read her online at www.citymomchicago.blogspot.com