By Don Graves
Precious memories. None better than Christmas time with my dad … stomping through the woods in an early morning search for the “perfect” tree …building a wooden stand … and placing it where Mother wanted.
Then came the fun time. Sipping hot chocolate, hanging decorations on the tree, sneaking a curious look as gifts were placed under the tree. Small gifts … simple, homemade gifts … wrapped with love. Maybe a pocket knife for me, a doll for my sister, fruit and chewing gum for each of us. The anticipation on Christmas Eve was incredible!
Afterwards, Daddy disappeared into the barn for several hours. Early the next morning – Christmas morning – he quietly left the house, went to the barn, loaded “something” in his car and drove away.
He never commented on his activity and we never questioned him. We didn’t know where he went nor what he was doing. Then it happened! Someone “caught him” delivering Christmas fruit baskets to neighbors across our little community. Conversations followed regarding the identity of the mysterious “gift giver.”
His secret was spoiled but not his joy of giving. He continued his happy act of love as long as his health permitted. It was my pleasure to assist him for a few of his remaining years.
One of the lasting memories of my childhood Christmas times was seeing his big smile spreading from ear to ear as he rushed back to our car after setting a basket on the front porch of each home.
Neighbors learned the identity of their “Christmas gift giver.” We also knew. However, we never spoke openly around the meal table about his Christmas adventures … because it was still “Daddy’s secret.”
Don Graves grew up in Holtville, Alabama and today lives in Childersburg.
