A CHRISTMAS STORY
Father spins a tale into a golden tradition.
I looked at my grandchildren, who were wide-eyed and eager for the story to begin.
Back in the 1960s and ’70s, when my seven children were younger, they loved to make Christmas lists for Santa Claus. I remember them lying on their stomachs, pencils in hand and feet wiggling in the air, amid a mountain of newspaper ads and the
Sears gift catalog. The older the child, the longer the list.
I didn’t want to disappoint them, but I knew I’d have to work three jobs just to make all of their wishes come true.
So one Christmas Eve, I told them a story about a little girl whose list was
400 pages. When Santa brought all the gifts, the whole house was packed, and presents spilled out into the yard. The girl realized this pile of gifts taking up every inch of space in the house wasn’t as exciting as she thought it would be.
I had not prepared this tale at all—it just rolled out of my imagination as I spoke. The next day, I wrote it down. Every Christmas Eve after that, the reading of “The Really, Really Long Christmas List” became our family holiday tradition.
Fifty years later, with the advent of selfpublishing, I found an illustrator and I had 100 copies of the story printed, which I gave to friends and co-workers. Many told me that they would make reading it aloud part of their Christmas Eve festivities. I also gave copies to each of my children as a keepsake of our long-ago holiday tradition. Then, one of my sons surprised me by saying, “Dad, you have to read this to the kids.”
I looked at my grandchildren, who were wide-eyed and eager for the story to begin. Some of them were even lying on their stomachs with their feet wiggling in the air, as my little ones had done 50 years ago. As I went through the story, a memory of doing the same with my children years before overwhelmed me. I had to take a moment to compose myself.
Our tradition continues. And I hope that my 17 grandchildren will read Grandpa’s story to their children every Christmas
Eve, too.
A friend reads her children a different holiday story for each of the five nights leading up to Christmas. Last year, she read my story on Christmas Eve, and will do so every year from now on.
“Did you ever think your tradition would become somebody else’s?” she asked.
I did not. I am thankful that the impromptu tale I made up as a young father struggling to pay his mortgage so long ago has become such an important part of our holiday memories.