My Shenandoah Christmas Story
The year was 1944/45, the Second World War was winding down and I was nine or ten years old. Christmas was approaching quickly and our front parlor at 118 Jardin Street had already been put off limits to my brothers and me. Its sliding doors were kept tightly closed, separating us from the Christmas tree and other decorations and especially a huge cardboard box that had come from a business men down in Hamburg for whom my father occasionally arranged to dome some advertising.
My brothers and I had each been given two dollars to buy presents for the other four family members. While out window shopping, the I saw the most wonderful present in all the world.
It was the smallest of the line of Gilbert Chemistry sets and cost $ 1.25. It beckoned to me from that lighted toy store window. I bought the set and brought it home, hiding it up in the attic behind several stacks of Life magazines. From then on, my every spare minute was spent in an attic dream world, making tremendous scientific discoveries, as I carefully handled the test tubes, chemicals and other magical apparati. I lived in an imaginary world that was so wondrous and special because it was created in the mind of a child.Eventually, my remaining 75 cents was spent buying "presents" for the other four members of our family. I knew that I would have to wrap up the Chemistry set and give it to my older brother even though he wasn't particularly interested in such a gift. I was heartbroken at the thought of losing this, the one present that would make my little world complete.
At last Christmas morning arrived. My brothers were excited at the thought of the presents that awaited us but my heart was heavy, knowing that I was about to lose my most highly prized treasure forever.
All the family gifts were distributed and opened quickly. Some were nice and interesting, some were expected, and some were disappointing items such as underwear and socks from our Aunt.
Then my father began to open the big cardboard box from Mr. Shollenberger. It was filled with unwrapped presents appropriate to boys of our age and then, to my utter astonishment, my father brought forth a Gilbert Chemistry set and handed it to me. It was an exact duplicate of the one that I had just given to my brother. It was my best Christmas morning ever.
Epilogue
Later in the day, after the big Christmas meal, my mother and Aunt were standing at the kitchen sink washing and drying the dishes while my brother and I were playing with our Chemistry sets. We had already performed the infamous "melt the powdered sulfur" experiment and had just filled the house with the stench of rotten eggs.
Now we put some water in our test tubes and firmly planted a cork in the top of the tube and began heating them over a candle. The idea was that the water would boil, create steam and pop the corks out at a tremendous velocity striking my Aunt in her ample backside. We giggled together with anticipation at the outcome of our prank.
Eventually the corks did pop out but only feebly and never got as far as my Aunt. Then unexpectedly, the boiling water from my tube spewed forth in a boiling stream, scalding my bare arm from wrist to elbow. Tears flowed and ointments were applied.
I felt somehow that I had somehow done wrong in coveting that Chemistry set so much and now I had been punished. Things were now "even-steven" again between God and myself.
Copyright © 1997 by William W. Simons