Yearlong gift dazzles a dad

All night, fierce winds swept the ground of the crisp, white snow and had chipped at the frozen earth, eroding off precious particles of top soil. The driving winds caused ground blizzards that had piled snow in great grayish-brown-tipped drifts around the house. As the frigid winds subsided, the whole world seemed frozen in the quiet, crisp chill of the frosty dawn. Meager threads of smoke curled upward from guarded blazes of stoves desperately trying to heat the scantily equipped homes. The 1930s Depression was at its peak. It seemed that no one was spared from the bony clutches of this catastrophic experience.

We were no exception. The furnace in our home sat cold and muted. The 10-room, two-story house had been closed off except for three adjoining rooms. The bathroom, kitchen and dining room struggled for the warmth from the coal-burning stove in the kitchen.

A Christmas tree crowded the corner of the dining room. My older brothers had tied a rope from the hinge of the door leading to the front entry hall, then diagonally across the room to the hinge of the door leading to the kitchen. From this rope hung 10 limp, well-worn stockings, many of them filled from heel to toe with loving stitches.

Mother's stocking hung at one end of the line, followed in succession, the oldest to the youngest, of each family member, ending with Father's stocking.

I was 8 years old and had saved every penny since the past February in order to buy presents for my family.

My oldest brother, Brigham, had been working on a government highway project high in the Rocky Mountains of southern Alberta.

He had sent all of his earnings home to my father to help the family survive the stranglehold of financial depression.

Today, however, was Christmas morning, and the laughing excitement of eight children electrified the air as they lined up at the kitchen door awaiting Father's signal to enter the magical Christmas room. Enchantment had swallowed up the harried struggles for survival of the past year.

"Open the door!"

This signal brought cheers of delight as eight eager children flew to their stockings. For a fleeting moment, I had a feeling of disappointment as the stockings appeared to look as limp and lifeless as they had been on Christmas Eve. However, on closer observation my disappointment turned to thrilling delight as I recognized some small bulges stretching the sides of the otherwise gaunt stockings.