My 4th Christmas
Posted: Wednesday, December 14, 2011
by Marijo Phelps
She had been in that hospital forever, my little sister. Polio was a nasty disease and we almost lost her to it. they were going to let her come home, overnight, for Christmas. I couldn’t wait to see my best friend and playmate once again. In my 4 ½ year old mind she’d be the same and we’d play in our fort of overturned chairs on the dining room floor…. It would be the same as it used to be at our house.
“My legs hurt…..” The snuffling slowed a bit when she saw the lights bubbling on the Christmas tree and all the brightly wrapped gifts underneath.
Later that day the doorbell rang and Santa was outside. He came into the living room and pulled a little police car from his bag for me. It was a wind up one with a siren that really worked. Colette got a car too. Dad didn’t care if we were his girls, we “got to” play with cars along with our dolls.
Later, after I figured out that Santa couldn’t come down the chimney without getting burned and my parents had “fessed up” about that jolly, old elf, dad also confessed that he had left the cars outside on the porch for Santa to put in his pack before ringing the doorbell.
Colette and I tried to play but her legs must have really been hurting her. She hardly ever cried. There were better and less tearful Christmases in our lives. The ones where we woke up when it was still dark wondering if it was time to go open gifts yet, only to be told, “Girls, it is 4:30 AM, go back to sleep!”
I knew the routine. No, we couldn’t open gifts on Christmas Eve because Santa didn’t come until that night. This led to the continual early morning drama with wiggly kids and exasperated parents each year but that was half the fun, right?
We read a big story book about the birth of Christ. After all, it was His birthday that we were celebrating, wasn’t it?
I remember the one year Mom hid one of my gifts so well that she didn’t find it until after Christmas, then only when I reminded her that she had said she got me something else and had put it in a place where I’d never find it.
I was sure glad the following Christmas when Colette was home again to stay.
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Marijo Phelps,saved by Jesus grace in 1974, from 9 years atheism into His loving arms. She is wanting to spread the good news about His redemptive plan for our lives through written media. Her name is pronounced Mary Jo. She was an RN for 23+ years, missionary with YWAM,statistical analyst for Every Home for Christ 9 years. Her first poem published when she was four years old. (her mom had much to do with that!) She has been writing ever since.
Her new blog can be found: http://myincrediblelord.blogspot.com
Her new blog can be found: http://myincrediblelord.blogspot.com
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Top-level comments on this article: (5 total)Hi Marijo.
Young people today probably have no idea about the devastation wrecked on countless lives by polio when we were young. :( I can't imagine what I would have done had my sister contracted polio. I was lucky. Her worst problem was a recurring ear infection and of course the usual childhood diseases.
Hugs,
DianneI had it too but mine was not the paralytic type - she is back in a motorized scooter most of the time now after being able to walk with a limp but no cane or crutches most of her life. Post polio is getting to her.I have the non-paralytic kind and do pretty well except for problems writing long hand - she is back in a motorized scooter after being free with no crutches etc. most of her life - post polio is not good either....thanks for commenting!
Warm and emotional. A lovely article with power and heart. I remember my best friend in Kalamazoo in the 50's got polio.i had it in 1948 and my sister in 1951 - the year before the big epidemic.... scary times! Thanks Christofer!
Very nice. My grandfather had polio. Very nice story, thanksThanks Jack - good to see you coming by!
Loved this. I really like the "homey" things as I guess you probably know.Thanks Verna - I think you have a book to write full of "homey" staries, don't you?
Wonderful, touching story, Marijo. Thank you so much for sharing.Our childhood was sometimes a bit more sober than most....Thanks for coming by, Ken!
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