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Cherished toys, happy reunions and Christmas miracles. The Herald-Times invited readers to share their most treasured holiday memories. Some are happy, others are hilarious and some are bittersweet.Enjoy these stories, and happy holidays!Oh TannenbaumThe time: 1939 and 1940 Yuletides.The place: Rural one-room school.Conditions: Temperatures in the 20s, snow, economic depression.Mission: The two biggest boys in the school are armed with axe and saw — our mission is to procure a tree for the Christmas pageant.From the classroom we trudged to a distant wood. Teacher\'s cautions were all heeded: Keep gloves on, don\'t walk on iced ponds, sever no fence wires, don\'t place your tongue on the axe head, return by school closing. We planned not to hurry!Hemlocks were the only greenery discovered — ragged tannenbaums — but these were make-do times. Once axed, the honored tree was towed back to receive the admiration, oohs, ahhs and "why couldn\'t I go toos" of fellow pupils. We procurers felt important!What if pupils today were detailed by their school to fetch a tannenbaum from nature? Think of resultant issues to be explored on local TV — liability, accountability, child supervision, and environmental preservation; 1939 and 1940 were memorably different.Jim MahanBloomingtonMy bikeWhen I was about 8 years old we lived next door to my Aunt and Uncle. One day right before Christmas, I went upstairs in their house and I saw this two-wheeled bike. I was the oldest of five kids so I knew it was for me. I never told what I had seen but it made it so hard to wait the few days left to get that bike.So when Christmas morning came I never told I knew I was getting a bike. It was a used bike too, but to me it was brand new. Then after some scrapes and bruises my uncle taught me how to ride. It was a wonderful Christmas.That\'s when I found out Santa didn\'t bring the bike.Joann ToddNashvilleCousin BobIt was two days before Christmas in 1943, war time. As my mother and I pulled up in front of our house, I could see the banner in our window with two blue stars. One star was for my brother, in England in the Signal Corps, and the other star was for my sister\'s husband, serving with the 10th Air Force in China.As we got out of our car, we could see in the shadows on our front porch a man in uniform, I heard my mother stop breathing as she leaned weakly against the car door, terrified that some dreadful news awaited us, but then we could see that the man was familiar.Mother closed the car door and went running to the porch with me behind. It was my second cousin, Bob, standing all alone in the cold with his duffel bag at his feet. Mother threw her arms around him and he collapsed sobbing against her shoulder.Bob had lived a very sad life. His mother committed suicide when he was a young child and his grandmother, my grandmother\'s sister, had raised him. A month before he had lost her while he was serving with General Patton in Africa. At the time, he could not come home for the funeral so we had not seen him since he had left for active duty. He cried as he told my mother, "I couldn\'t think where else to come."Mother said, "This is where you belong."It was a special Christmas that year, with all the family that was still at home crammed into our little two-bedroom house. Bob\'s mother and grandmother were gone, but his grandmother\'s two sisters were still with us — my grandmother and her sister, Lucy. I was only 10, but I learned something. I began to understand better what family meant. Bob, in his desperation, turned to my mother, whose heart was kind and generous and whose family must have stood for the love, caring, and stability he needed so desperately. I learned then how family could nurture and sustain even its adult members and how important those connections can be even when we have to venture far from home and culture.Janet JacksonBloomingtonDad\'s ChristmasesI have so many holiday memories! All through the years Santa Claus came in person. It was so exciting to listen to his bells on arrival. When the grandchildren came, my dad always fixed treats for them — candy and an apple and orange. When we were grown, one of us took him to Murphy\'s in Indianapolis to buy the candy. They gave him Christmas boxes of animal crackers. Mom fixed a great dinner and was always ready with a gift if an unexpected guest showed up. She always kept it secret who was in the red suit.It must have been a hardship for them since my dad worked for $1 per day on a farm back in those days. But us kids didn\'t know we were poor! My mother died at age 64 but Dad lived to be 96 and had a good memory. Christmas was always special. I still have the doll I got when I was seven.Violet Love CowdenBloomingtonBest gift everOur special Christmas Day memory began at Margaret\'s family house for the traditional Christmas Eve dinner and gifts. Margaret was in late pregnancy and when back home, began to feel quite a bit of discomfort. This continued for the rest of the night. About 8 a.m., we decided to call our doctor at his home and expressed our sorrow for calling him early on Christmas Day. He wanted Margaret to meet him right away at his office.He examined Margaret and told her to go to Bloomington Hospital quickly. Our baby was coming about seven to 10 days ahead of the expected date. About 1:30 p.m. in the afternoon of Christmas Day 1953, our perfect baby girl was born and named Nancy Kay. She was welcomed by a brother, Gary, age 7 1/2, and sister Susan, age 3 1/2. Susan had asked for a live doll for Christmas, so she got her wish.Nancy is now married to Dr. Dan Host and has a grown boy and girl of her own.We always have a special cake on Christmas Day for Nancy\'s birthday. A very special day.Vern and Margaret SnyderBloomingtonThe red rockerWhen I was a small child, we were very poor. I had nine brothers and sisters and our Christmas consisted of homemade candy, cookies and maybe a handmade gift.One day, on a very rare occasion, I got to go to town with my mother. While I was in town, I spied a beautiful little red rocking chair in a store window. Oh how I longed to have that little red rocking chair. A few days later, I discovered a little red rocker in our attic at home. I just knew it was for me. I didn\'t tell anyone about finding the chair, but I waited anxiously for Christmas morning.The day before Christmas, a friend of my father\'s showed up and took my beautiful chair. The man had bought the chair for his little girl and asked my dad to keep it for him until Christmas. I didn\'t let him take it away before I said a few choice words to him. Since I had six brothers, I knew plenty of words to call him, too. My parents were embarrassed, but I didn\'t care right then. When my first grandchild was born, I went out and bought her the little red rocking chair just like the one I had wanted.Mary CraftGosportUnexpected giftsForty-five years ago, I was stationed in Tacoma, Wash., in the Air Force. My best friend and I decided to go to Seattle for New Year\'s Eve. We bought round-trip bus tickets so we\'d be sure to get back to base. We ate and partied with friends and that night went to the YMCA to get a room. We didn\'t have enough money so we had to settle for what was called "open bay," a big room with bunk beds.The next morning we went to take a shower but were told it would cost us 50 cents each for a towel and a bar of soap. We only had 35 cents between us! As we turned to leave, the lady who worked there yelled "Merry Christmas," and threw us each a towel and a bar of soap! I\'ll always remember that as one of my best Christmas gifts!Larry HerndonBloomingtonTo be a believerI don\'t recall how old I was — the age is different from one child to the next — but I was there: right at the age when belief in Santa was becoming more and more vexatious. And along came another Christmas! My parents had told that disbelief might result in a scarcity of presents under the tree. So I wanted to believe — oh how I wanted to believe!So my parents endeavored one more time to sustain my childhood belief in Santa. And anyhow, I was desperate not to endanger the season\'s supply of gifts. So they dreamed up a scheme to get me out of the room on Christmas Eve. Now, we lived on the second story of an apartment building, and we had a grand picture window in the living room with no screen. I went on their fool\'s errand, and when I returned to the apartment, I heard: "John! Come quick! He just left, out the window! Hurry or you\'ll miss him!"I rushed to the window and stuck out my head, into the crisp, dark night. And to my absolute wonder, what did I see? Why, the back-end of the sleigh, of course, and the back-side of Santa himself! I saw the red, floppy hat! And I HEARD THE SLEIGH BELLS! He was there only for a second before the dark swallowed him. Is he real or not? For me, that night, and forever more, the question was answered!So don\'t come at me with your doubts. I know he is real, and I have known for oh so long a time. Now I have come to the winter of my life, but that makes no difference. Yes, I still believe in Santa, because I actually saw the grand old man more than 55 years ago!John William JohnsonBloomingtonOne small joyMy most memorable Christmas was in 1975.At age 69 my mother had two weeks earlier returned home from a missionary trip to Africa, coming home with sleeping sickness.On Christmas Day she died.Earlier I had asked our six children (ages 5 to 16) what they wanted to eat on Christmas and they all jumped up and down and said, "We want pork chops! We want pork chops!" Needless to say, I was in no mood to prepare pork chops and a large meal. We ate peanut butter sandwiches.To see our children contented, asking for nothing and understanding was a joy money could not buy!Mary Ann AtnipBloomingtonFamily ChristmasChristmas was magical then. My father showed us letters he\'s saved from the past that Santa wrote to us kids. He\'d then get out the hand-knit stockings that my mother made. My father would set up the tree a few days before, decorate it with those big multicolored bulbs, and \'50s decorations, and tinsel. Us kids each got long, red, felt banner with a round top and a picture of Santa Claus glued on top, with a candy cane tied with yarn telling how many days until Christmas.The night before Christmas, my parents and I would bake cookies and fudge. My sister and I would always scrape off the fudge in the big heavy silver pot. We\'d take a drive around to look at the other decorated homes, then we\'d return home have hot cocoa and cookies. Christmas morning, the unwrapped gifts were always from Santa Clause.Cynthia ClarkeMore baking soda?Not all treasured holiday memories are of the warm and fuzzy kind. Sometimes they are the result of minor disasters that become part of a family\'s collective memory, recalled with great humor every year.About six years ago, preparation was progressing as usual for our traditional Christmas Eve fondue. The final step is adding a bit of red wine and cornstarch. As I mixed the two ingredients together, I thought briefly that there was something different about the chemical reaction between the two, but I ignored the warning and added the mixture. When I began to stir, I stared in confused horror as the fondue began to bubble and rise like a volcano about to erupt. Then I realized what had happened. I had mistakenly reached for the baking soda instead of the cornstarch. The fondue was inedible.However, it is an essential part of our Christmas Eve, and so my husband decided to go to the nearest convenience store to see if he could find the necessary ingredients to make more. Immediately, both of our sons grabbed their jackets to join him in his quest. As the door closed, I could hear the hoots of laughter, which they had barely managed to contain while sympathizing with me about my ruined fondue.Through creative searching, they managed to find the essential ingredients; and as I was unpacking the groceries, at the bottom of the bag I found five or six boxes of baking soda!Denise SawyerBloomingtonA silly holidayWhen my cousin Martha Feltus Walstrum and I were little girls, we were very close. Neither of us had any siblings then. We were together every Christmas Eve at our house. One year, we decided to get all of our grown-ups funny gifts.Wicks Department Store had a bargain basement — everything real cheap. We shopped in there and bought unbecoming socks, hats or other clothing for each adult. There were dime and quarter boxes of stuff.There were five adults at our house. We spent about $1.25 altogether. They modeled these garments for us after they opened them.You should have seen mother, Martha\'s mother, grandma, uncle Paul and uncle Harry. We all laughed a lot. Later in the evening, we went to midnight services at church. That has been about 70 years ago. I talked to Martha last week — Bloomington to Hawaii — on her birthday.Dot (Moore) SporeBloomingtonMy memoryOne Christmas that I have always remembered was in 1941. I was 12 years old. I had two dolls that I really liked and played with until they looked very worn. I asked for a doll with nice clothes and told my parents I would keep it very nice and not play with it.That Christmas morning brought such joy and happiness when this beautiful doll with opening and closing eyes, small teeth showing and wearing a pink dress with matching coat and hat was under our tree. I did not play with that doll and, at 75 years old, I still have the doll sitting in a child\'s rocker in my living room. An added surprise was finding an orange, ribbon candy and English walnuts in my long, brown stocking. I was one happy child.Marjorie ShickBloomingtonA cool giftGrowing up on the farm during the Great Depression meant there was not much money to spend on Christmas presents.One chore to be done twice a day was milking cows. You improvised some sort of a milking stool to sit on while doing that chore. That Christmas, under the tree, was a metal milking stool from Sears Roebuck (it was 98 cents, I looked it up.) To say it was "cool" to sit on in winter would be an understatement! My mother made a little cushion for it. That made for warmer and softer sitting. There was not a prouder boy in the fifth grade when I told the class what I got for Christmas! Everyone told what they got.Earl G. DelpBloomingtonFar from homeMy most memorable Christmas, 1945, was when we (in the U.S. Navy) stopped at Pearl Harbor on the way to Korea and got mail.My mother had just had a 14-pound tumor removed, which filled a big pan. She needed a blood transfusion and had B blood — a rare one. Hack Chambers heard about the need. He was a skinny P.O.W. home on leave and gave my mom blood. I can not think of a more memorable Christmas!Gerald E. BeyersBloomingtonOpening the heartOn Aug. 11, 2001, my son died. He was on life support for three days. God gave his life back.Thanksgiving and Christmas was wonderful because my son was with me. I still pushed God aside for three years. I fought off a feeling I never had before. In March of 2004 I went to church. In April 2004 I got baptized and filled with the Holy Ghost. In August 2004 my car fell on my oldest son. All he got was third degree burns. God saved him. My Thanksgiving and Christmas in 2004 are tremendous. I have both sons with me. God has sent miracles to me and he will you too. He is my Lord Savior. The Living Waters Church made my holiday complete and so did God. They welcome you as they did myself and my family.Darlene GarrisonBloomingtonLuminous memoriesOne memory that has always stayed with me happened each year on Christmas Eve. Dad and Mom would load us kids into the family car and head over to Pap and Granny\'s farm in Unionville. We always looked forward to seeing the many houses along the way that had went to great lengths to decorate their homes with Christmas lights. Our eyes would open a little wider as we approached each house, hoping that it had more lights than the last one. The brilliant displays seemed to add a little thrill to an already magical night.Jim DrakeEllettsvilleMistaken identityOne year, someplace in the mid-\'30s, perhaps \'36 or \'37, Uncle Bill, a career Army officer, arrived with Aunt Margaret for Christmas along with two other spinster aunts and my grandmother. The smell of cookies was in the air and one could hear giggling behind closed doors as we all struggled with tissue paper, stickers and glue in our efforts to wrap gifts. No Christmas decorations were in evidence except for a few crafted ornaments and paper chains that my brother and I brought home from school and which were hung around the kitchen or dining room. Santa always took care of the decorating.Christmas morning Dad always went down first to "stoke the furnace and if it looks like Santa Claus has been here then I\'ll light a fire in the fireplace." From the upper floor, the stairway led directly to the front door with the dining room to the right and a hall leading to the back of the house and kitchen. Curtained French doors opened off the hallway into the living room and from the top of the stairs we could see nothing except a glow of light. A Christmas tree? Or just a lamp?On this Christmas morning we waited impatiently for the last person to be ready, which was usually Great Aunt Ida. As we waited we heard some rustling noises and then a sharp noise as if a chair had been toppled. With that, Uncle Bill charged down the stairs brandishing his .45 and bellowing, "What\'s going on down there?"Another voice answered, "I\'m Santa Claus and I "Uncle Bill was having none of that. "Well I never heard of you and you\'ve got a lot of nerve running around in your red underwear and waking up decent folks trying to get some sleep.""Uncle Bill!" we screamed, "That\'s Santa Claus!"Uncle Bill kept right on roaring at the intruder. "Now you get right out of here or you\'re going to be wearing lead underpants.""But sir," said Santa, giving it one last try, "It\'s Christmas and I just want to leave a few gifts for the children.""Bah," sneered Uncle Bill, "Christmas isn\'t until the Fourth of July. Now GIT!"Sounds of a struggle ensued with biffs, bams and grunts and my brother and I still screaming at Uncle Bill to leave Santa Claus alone. Finally we heard Santa say, "All right, all right, I\'m going" followed by stamping boots and the slam of the back door.Then we heard Uncle Bill\'s voice again, "Now where did that red ragamuffin get to? There he is up on the roof with a bunch of funny looking cows! I\'ll take care of him!"With that we heard three or four shots after which Uncle Bill came back indoors mumbling about the nerve of strangers breaking into a house and leaving such a mess in the living room. We were in tears by them. "Uncle Bill, did you really shoot Santa Claus?""No," he said, "I missed him. All those funny cows jingling around up there threw off my aim, but I surely scared him off."With that, we were allowed to swarm down the stairs and there was Christmas even more beautiful than we had anticipated. There was a perfect tree with real candles, a miniature village on the mantle with lights showing through the windows, and a satisfying array of packages under the tree. A fire was burning brightly in the old stone fireplace, and on the hearth, an empty plate with a few crumbs and an empty milk glass.Tama J. AbramsBloomingtonDad\'s Christmas spiritFor many years, Dad was the beloved Santa at Southern Plaza Shopping Center in Indianapolis. To the delight of excited children, he led the parade to Santa\'s House, officially opening the holiday season.What a Santa he was — long white hair, full beard, curly-que moustache (all real!), and twinkly blue eyes! He had a great love for children coupled with an enormous sense of duty and responsibility to represent Santa and the true spirit of Christmas.He remembered names, researched toys so he would converse knowledgeably with kids, never made promises, always answered requests for special appearances and tenderly admonished children and their parents to love one another.When Dad passed away, our family was overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and remembrances from hundreds and hundreds of people whose lives he had touched through generations of their families.Twelve Christmases later, his gentle spirit renews us once again.Georgeanna SlaybaughMorgantownRCA holidayI would love to be able to thank all of the people in the past who made the RCA Christmas party for the employees\' children happen. I have many memories of the event, as I\'m sure many people around Bloomington do.We would attend a cartoon show at a local theater and as we were leaving, each one of us received a toy of our choice, candy and were greeted by Santa. I thought I was special because "my daddy worked at RCA." My children also were able to experience this annual Christmas event with their grandpa Lentz when it was held at the RCA Union Hall.I will always be grateful to the people at RCA who worked hard to make this a special Christmas memory for me and the many other kids in our community who also attended this special event. I always remembered that the left over toys were donated to charity. RCA was a great asset to Bloomington! Donna Lentz FerreeBloomingtonHomecomingIn May of 1941 Ralph Ketchum, Carl Gobert and Evert Arnold got me a job in Elgin, Ohio at a furnace factory. I was 18, the oldest of 10 and I decided to give my family a good Christmas. I got Dad a billfold and overalls, Mom a purse and apron, Bill a shirt and gloves, Kenneth a shirt and gloves, Martha Belle a make-up kit, Dennis a wagon, Sam a shirt and gloves, Joanne a doll and gloves, Pat a doll and gloves, Russell overalls and shoes and Phyllis a doll and toy. It had snowed about eight inches the day before I left Elgin to go home for Christmas. I had a \'37 Chevy. and it was bad driving but I was determined to get home for Christmas. I got home about 5 a.m. after driving all night. I woke Mom and Dad up and they got dressed and built a fire in the wood stove while I carried the gifts in. The kids started getting up and getting excited. I passed out the gifts and the smiles and laughter made it all worthwhile. Mom made breakfast: eggs, biscuits and gravy. I got sleepy and Dad and Mom gave me a big hug and told me to lay down for a nap. I don\'t remember the rest of the day.Austin PolleyBloomingtonChristmas in wartimeMy most memorable Christmas was Dec. 25, 1944, on Guadalcanal. I had just returned from Guam, and had been overseas almost two years participating in Bouganville and Guam campaigns.Our unit was sent to a rest camp on Guadalcanal and while there I received a letter from my mother, she wrote that my younger brother Don had joined the Marines and was on his way overseas. She gave me the name of his unit and the address to write him. A few days later I saw someone putting up a sign stating that would be the future home of my brother\'s unit. I watched daily for them to arrive and on Christmas Eve I saw trucks from his unit moving in.My commanding officer gave permission for me to try and locate my brother. I did find him sitting on a C bag writing a letter home. He was allowed to go back with me to my unit for a Christmas dinner that I will never, never forget. Sadly my brother died a few years ago, so this chance meeting we treasured makes it all the more special to me.William L. PearsonBloomingtonA parent\'s giftHyla Jean Riggins of Odon sent in to The Herald-Times copies of newspaper clippings that tell the story of her favorite Christmas.She writes to us, "My most memorable Christmas occurred in 1959 on Dec. 12 when my guardians adopted me. A wonderful $75 gift."At the age of 12, the orphaned Riggins was taken in by Mr. and Mrs. Hallett Pownall of Odon. The Pownalls raised Riggins as if she were their own child. Years later, in 1959, when Riggins was a 25-year-old wife and mother, the Pownalls legally adopted her, to make official the family bonds they felt in their hearts for a long time already.Riggins enclosed a copy of Hallett Pownall\'s $75 check to the attorney who handled the adoption. It was the most wonderful Christmas present she\'d ever received.

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Source: https://www.heraldtimesonline.com/story/news/2004/12/23/readers-remember/48419349/

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