Citizen Journal: All through the house, not a tree stood twinkling, not even a star

Mary Stevens worked a full time job out of the house at 1323 E. 43rd Ave. and took in neighbor’s ironing to make ends meet. She chose Spokane as the place to raise her three children who never felt a lack for material things. Mary was a woman with pride.

This raising of children took place in the old days when a single woman, stigmatized by divorce, was viewed suspiciously, especially a woman like Mary Stevens who welcomed her marital condition, which no longer included her husband. He reduced his involvement in the family to sending the children birthday cards with a five dollar bill enclosed.

Mary worked extra hours, even on her days off during December in order to deck the family halls. Christmas gifts at her house always equaled those under the trees next door or across the street. She willed every Christmas to be happy, with a dose of keeping-up-with-the-Joneses.

The Stevens children remember Christmas seasons fondly. Except for one.

That year, like other years, the family decorated the tree with newly purchased ornaments, flickering lights and bulbs with patterns of white fuzz. The children heaped thousands of thin strands of aluminum, called icicles, onto the branches.

Mary hung a wreath on the door. Using aerosol snow and a putty knife, a Michelangelo-size nativity scene was applied onto the large picture window in the living room.

The children went to bed early on Christmas Eve with warm yuletide thoughts in their little noggins. The exciting prospect of Christmas presents worked against the duty of the Sand Man. 10-year-old Veronica could not sleep. She had been wised up to the Santa Claus Fraud. Veronica imagined every creak in the old house was her mother laying out the toys that had been purportedly dropped off by Santa on his global giveaway.

Veronica’s fear of their strict mother kept her in bed. She agonized for several hours until the urge overcame her. By then, her mother had certainly fallen into her usual deep sleep due to exhaustion.

Veronica eased out of bed and crept down the stairs.

Her intention was to do a quick survey of the gifts, then return to bed. However, her eye was drawn to a certain a present with her sister’s name attached. Veronica decided that now would be the only time that she would be allowed to play with this toy. It was a device that created soft plastic creatures known in those days as Creepy Crawlers.

She dared not turn on the overhead lights for fear of alerting her mother. Under the dim light of the Christmas tree, Veronica tended to overfill the plastic molds.

Very little of the multicolored goo actually dripped onto the living room carpet because most of it dribbled on the other Christmas presents.

The disaster literally picked up steam when Veronica began cooking the fresh-made Creepy Crawlers in the toy’s heating unit. The odor of cooking plastic must have fallen upon her mother’s olfactories. Suddenly, she heard someone exhale from above her.

Until that night, Veronica had never seen her mother’s eyes vibrate in such a way. It was a terrifying specter for a child to witness.

Stevens spoke some unfestive words after which a sound spanking was applied to Veronica’s posterior. She was sent back upstairs.

At dawn, the children skipped down the stairs with great Christmas expectations.

Horror awaited them. They did not expect to see their mother sitting erect in the chair by the door wearing her dress-up clothes.

Every trace of Christmas had been removed from the house.

The tree was gone, the Christmas cards put away and the snowy Nativity mural scraped clean from the window. The gifts were nowhere to be seen. Even the wreathe had been taken off the door.

Their work-till-you-drop, we’re-all-in-this-together, keep-up-appearances mother had reached her breaking point.

“Get dressed for Mass,” was all she said.

The children dressed and followed their mother out of the wreathless front door.

Two more shocks had to be endured by the children on that dark Christmas morning.

First, the icicled Christmas tree lay pitched in the front yard, some bulbs disconnected but the holy star still affixed at the top. Veronica would rather have died than suffer through the embarrassment of having the neighbors know what she had done to cause this unthinkable event.

The second shock was that their mother did not walk toward the garage where the family car was parked, instead, she began to walk down the sidewalk. It took three blocks for the children to realize that their mother meant for them to walk to church in the cold.

Three valuable lessons were learned that Christmas Day.

1. The family was still all in this together. Mary Stevens never told anyone about Veronica’s shameful act and covered up by telling the neighbors that the Christmas tree in the yard was tossed out because it was full of spiders.

2. The nonreligious part of Christmas, the fun stuff, is a creation of Mom. However, that which is given can be taken away.

3. Children should never trifle with a Christmas created by an Irish-Catholic-I-don’t-need-a-man kind of woman who mutters a steady stream of obscenities while walking to and from Christmas Mass.”