CHRISTMAS AT THE OLD REC HALL

The Old Rec Hall in Sandy holds many fonds memories for me. Each year, friends and neighbors would gather there for a special Christmas celebration. I remember the long walk to the Old Rec Hall with my sister and I thought we would never get there. It seemed that hundreds of people attended. There must have been some sort or program--although I don't remember any of it. I remember the squeaky floors and the long line of people waiting to see Santa up on the stage. The stage had maroon drapes but it seemed that blankets were hung to section off the room for I remember walking down the make-shift isles to the stage where Santa sat.

I felt afraid of him and timidly approached him to get my sack of goodies. It had an orange, peanuts, and hard-tack ripple candy. I remember the fibers of the peanut shells sticking to the sticky hard-tack candy. So, in order to eat the candy, the fibers had to be licked off. I was secretly disappointed with the bag of treats but eagerly received it anyway.

The hard-tack ripple candy was a favorite of my mother's and it seemed to find its way into our home every Christmas. I believe my mother was the only one who ate it however. It reminded her of her childhood and her years as a young girl on the farm when a single piece of colorful candy would be sucked on for hours and made to last the whole day. Mother's candy specialities were dollar mints and chocolate-peanut clusters. She always had a stash of her favorites in the bedroom and every time she went shopping, she would buy another bag. She was always generous with her candy and would surprise us with a little treat when least expected.

Today I am grateful for the memory of such a simple bag of goodies. Things were different then. Children did not expect the sun and the moon and the stars under the tree. I think it was better then. People seemed more focused on the simple joy of celebrating Christmas. I love returning to the Old Rec Hall every year. It brings back such fond memories for me.

A few weeks before Christmas, we would go as a family to buy a fresh tree. Dad would drive us there and let us pick out the tree we desired. But the truth is that I always picked the one that I thought he would like best. He brought twine and would tie the tree to the roof or the trunk of the car. He always had to build the tree for it was never perfect and seemed to always have a gaping whole in it. So he would saw off a branch elsewhere and somehow attach it where it was need.

One year when Loraine and I were young, the family had decorated the tree the night before and it was magnificent. I had never seen such a splendid sight. Why it was the most beautiful tree in the entire world. It had bubble lights and icicles and all sorts of colored bulbs. Loraine and I loved it so much that the next morning we got up early to view it with the lights on and noticed that the windows were steamy. So we got some rags to wipe off the front window. Unfortunately, as we were eagerly cleaning the window so that everyone could see it, we knocked the tree over, water and all. We then had the task of going into Mother and Dad's bedroom to tell them that we had just knocked the tree over and water was everywhere. They must have understood how excited we were, for they simply got out of bed, cleaned up the water, and put the tree in its upright position. It is a delicious memory for me--even with the ripple candy and peanut fibers. Yum!