Even as an adult I find it difficult to sleep on Christmas Eve.
Yuletide excitement is a potent caffeine, no matter your age.
~Carrie Latet
It was such a magical night, and I just could not fall asleep! My mind went through the list of everything that needed to be done—the stockings were filled, placed lovingly in front of the Christmas tree with lights glowing in soft reds, greens, and blues, waiting for the early-morning excitement; the refrigerator was packed with favorite Christmas foods; the children were all snug in their beds.... Yes, everything seemed in order, but yet, sleep escaped me. My insides seemed to smile, and giggles would bubble up.
We were a young couple with three little girls: a tough diesel mechanic and his busy little wife—a stay-at-home mom. Sometimes it was tough to make ends meet on only one paycheck, but this Christmas we were trying to make dreams come true for our three precious little girls.
It was Cabbage Patch doll time, and a new one that could talk and sing, with a special name, birth date, and different hair color, had just been released. Even better yet, if you owned more than one, they would sing in rounds! It was unbelievable! The ultimate in wonderful!
By some miracle, and by shopping early, we were able to get these greatly coveted new dolls, three of them, one for each of our angels.
That night, my husband and I stayed up late and took the dolls out of the package to test them. One didn’t work!! Luckily there was still time to go back to the store. The next morning, the clerk and I took the replacement doll out of the package to make sure it worked, and placed it loosely in the box inside a bag as I left the store. “Do you want to play?” it called from the bag as I walked to the car. A man paused, looking puzzled. “Row, row, row your boat,” she started singing. Women turned to look. “Shhh,” I playfully chided the doll with a smile, “People are looking!” But already I could feel the fun.
December is the perfect time for all good children to go to bed early. Peeking in and seeing them peacefully sleeping, I gleefully showed the dolls to my husband. We took them out of the boxes again to “test.” We talked with the dolls, and sang with the dolls, and finally regretfully, put them away again.
The next night after the children were sound asleep, I looked at that tough mechanic, and he looked at me. “Do you want to play with the dolls?” And we both ran to get them out of the hiding place. Night after night, our secret activity continued, and we played with delight, picturing how happy these toys would make our darlings.
Finally it was Christmas Eve. It was hard for our over-excited little sweethearts to fall to sleep. It was getting later and later, but at last their even breathing filled their rooms. It was safe to get the dolls out one last time. They talked, and sang in rounds, and we joyfully placed them in the boxes, this time wired in tightly, turned on, ready to delight our children.
Dreams of thrilled little girls danced in my head. I couldn’t sleep! This special night was too filled with joy and excitement as I envisioned the happiness of our girls. That is what Christmas is really about—the magic, the love—bringing joy to others. That mechanic and I had played night after night, picturing the reaction of our children. They would be so excited—the perfect Christmas surprise.
The hours dragged by; I tossed and turned. I realized that the big tough mechanic was tossing and turning too! Our anticipation was killing us! Finally, around 4 AM, he sat up and left the room. When he came back, he had loud sleigh bells, and started shaking them. I giggled. No sound from the children’s room. I jumped up out of bed, and together we stomped loudly around our bedroom, as if someone was walking on the rooftop—smothering our smiles and laughter. Nothing—no sound. We cried in our lowest bass voices, “Ho, ho, ho!” Did we hear a child stir? It was now almost 4:30. Were they awake? Quickly we jumped back in bed, and pretended to be asleep as little footsteps entered our room.
Some pretense of responsible parenthood had to be maintained. So with three little girls, eyes sparkling with excitement, peering into my half open eyes, little hands caressing my cheeks awake, that tough mechanic and I took turns in mock complaining, “It is SO early; we’re tired! It is only 4:30! It is still nighttime!”
Being such obedient children, they sighed, turned around, and started back to bed! Quick! I had to do something! “NO!” I called frantically, halting them in their tracks. “We’re already awake now. Let’s see what Santa brought!”
As the girls dashed to the tree surrounded by the boxed dolls, one doll called out, “Do you want to play?” And the girls gasped, frozen in place, eyes wide. Joy and excitement filled that day—three little “dolls” singing together, playing together. The giggles and laughter continued throughout the weeks to come. That Christmas was everything we hoped for.
Now these beautiful girls are all grown, and the greatest happiness they have is to make dreams come true for their own loved ones. But I will never forget the December when a tough mechanic and his little wife spent the days before Christmas playing with dolls.
