Christmas under the cherry tree
It’s still 1965 and we’re still working for our house. It’s time again for the cherries. We all work real hard on the cherries, and this year, we can’t go home for Christmas. We can’t afford it ’cause we gotta get this house so we’ll stay here in the paddocks. But that’s okay—we’ve had Christmas here before. When its knock-off time, Mummy sends us back to the hut and us kids go and wash up and tidy up, then we play for a while. Hide’n-go-seek is great here; there’s lots of room and trees to hide in. All the while, Mummy keeps working longer hours than anyone.
We take it in turns doing the chores here, too. The boys have to peel the potatoes for tea, and Lynnie and me have to get the wood in. I can cut the bigger wood now—not the big logs yet— but I’m real proud of myself, anyway. Mummy comes home when it’s getting dark. We’re all tired so she’s cooking while we have our showers. Two more days to payday, then we can do our Christmas shopping. Santa comes in five days.
Just before payday comes, Mummy tells us how much money we’ll have. She tallies up how much we have picked and earned each day, and how much we need for the house. She says we’ll have four dollars and fifty cents each for our presents. She’s sorry but that’s all we can have to buy our presents from Santa. We say it’s okay; we don’t mind. She asks us what we would like Santa to bring. I don’t know, maybe a doll. She says, ‘On pay day, you can spend the afternoon in town and look around to see what you want. And you’ll all have your own pocket money, too, so you can buy presents for each other.’
Pay day is finally here. We work real hard in the morning so we can have the afternoon off. Mummy tells us to take it easy, not to worry too much, that we’ll be fine. We all feel happy—we can go into town and spend up big, well, pretend anyway. Mummy makes sure we’re all dressed in our best clothes and that our faces are clean. No way would she let us go to town looking untidy or dirty.
When we go in, we have a special lunch at the café and then we’re allowed to go and spend our pay on what we want, as long as it’s not heaps of lollies. The boys would love to spend all their money on them. Last week, I bought some paper dolls that you gotta dress up in paper clothes. It’s really easy and they look so pretty.
We go to the café and have a big feed and even a chocolate milkshake. It’s so nice that the boys want another but they can’t. Lynnie and me laugh—serves them right for being greedy. We all start looking into the shops. The boys are allowed to look by themselves but us girls aren’t. ‘It’s not fair! How come they can go by themselves?’ Mummy tells us, ‘Because they’re boys’. I still think it’s not fair. Sometimes, I wish I was a boy, too, then I could do lots more things as well.
Me, Mummy and Lynnie go into another shop and the shop assistant girl is nice. She asks me what I want: a doll or something else. I tell her, ‘I don’t know’. She points around at lots of different things. Just then, Mummy comes over and I look up on the wall and I see it. A little white dog. ‘Mummy, look up there, the dog.’
Grabbing a big ladder, the girl arms herself with a stick and, climbing the ladder, gets it down. It’s way up high. As I watch her, I hold my breath and then close my eyes real tight, whispering under my breath as I do, ‘Please don’t drop it. Please don’t drop it.’ I repeat it over and over again; my voice is in my throat but it doesn’t want to make a noise.
She gets it down safely and passes it to me. I love it. My heart is bursting as I hold it close and feel it next to my skin. ‘Oh, Mummy, it’s beautiful.’ The toy dog is white with a red tongue sticking out and it’s got a big gold chain on it. Mummy asks me, ‘How much is it?’ I turn the price tag around, holding my breath, saying a little prayer at the same time, willing it to be under my four dollars and fifty cents.
Oh, no, it’s five dollars fifty. I look at Mummy; I feel my heart breaking and my voice cracking as I try hard not to cry.
‘It’s okay. I’ll pick something else.’
I hand it back to the girl and walk away. I move away from Mummy for a little while. I don’t wanna let her see me with a broken heart. I don’t want Lynnie to see me, neither. She would tease me for being a sook and then she would tell the boys and then I would really cop it.
When I’m ready, I sing out to Mummy, ‘There’s a doll over here, Mummy’. It’s dressed in pink and real pretty. ‘Santa can bring me this instead.’ I point it out to her and go and find Lynnie. She’s chosen a doll, too, but hers can walk and it comes up to my waist. She teases me because her doll will be bigger than mine.
We go home, all of us happy with our shopping and our presents that we picked out. I think of the dog and wonder what will happen to him. It’s a wonderful afternoon, the sun is smiling and we are, too, ’cause we don’t have to work. We don’t even have to do any jobs tonight: no nothing. We can just rest.
Mummy’s lying back reading the paper. She bought us all a game of snakes and ladders, and the boys are trying to cheat. It’s been a good day. I’m tired, I wanna go to bed. It’s three days to Christmas.
Then it’s Christmas morning and Santa’s been in the middle of the night. I don’t know how he finds us and how he always brings the presents we pick out. I think, what a clever man he is, and I wonder how Mummy lets him know what we want. My mother, she’s pretty smart, you know. I open all my presents: first, there’s marbles and jacks, and some more paper dolls from Lynnie, and the boys bought me some play jewellery.
Lots and lots of presents just for me. I think I’m so lucky but I wonder where the little dog is now? We’ve all finished opening our presents and us kids show each other what we got. We’re all excited and happy but I didn’t get the doll from Santa. Lynnie got hers. Maybe he forgot—or maybe he thought I was bad so I couldn’t have a special present like the other kids.
I hear Mummy talking to me.
‘Kerry, there’s one more present to open. Yes, it’s yours!’
I think it must be the doll—Santa didn’t forget—and that means I wasn’t bad after all. Mummy passes my present to me. I feel it and can’t help but shake it, wondering what it could be. I know it’s not the doll—there’s no box.
‘Open it,’ everyone says at the same time ’cause they all know. My fingers get a hold of the paper and it starts ripping.
‘The dog! Mummy, I got the dog!’
Excited, I run to her and give her the best cuddle she’s ever had in all her life. I show everyone my dog. The boys want to know if the tongue comes out. She tells them to behave and leave me alone. I pick up my dog and go outside. This is the best working Christmas I ever had.