Christmas memories

Kindergarten class, Christmas, 1945

What a magical time it was during the Advent days before Christmas.  Every single kid was excited with the prospect of a Christmas vacation: but equally important was the way in which we celebrated it at school.  Each corner of the hallway had a wreath mounted about 8 feet high with lighted candles.  I was in the choir and our high falsetto voices could be heard wafting into the school when we practiced in the choir loft next door:  O Come O Come Emanuel, O little Town of Bethlehem and Adeste Fidelis.  

The school would hold a craft fair in the Pine Room so we could buy just the right gift for Mom.  As Christmas approached you could feel the excitement in the air.  Walking to school in the hard packed snow and hearing the crunch as it was compressed with each footstep made by your galoshes.  Getting out of school at the end of the day and walking the several blocks home to the 500 block of south Elmwood; staring at the Christmas lights and trees on every single house you passed, your breath passing your eyes every few steps.  You would walk along with friends or if I was lucky I might get a ride from Mrs. O'Connor in their big blue Chrysler limo with jump seats.  More often than not you would hitch on the bumper of a car for amusement. Many times I had to accompany my little sister Nancy on these walks to make sure she arrived safely; as if there would be a problem in Oak Park during those times.  Everyone looked out for each other.

The culmination for me was at Midnight Mass.  We all wore the vestments and we actually had a trumpet accompanying the organist.  The manger was set up on the side of the church and I can still see the worn and weathered wise men, sheep and cow. On that night the baby Jesus was placed in the crib.

It is in grade school that you really "grew up" so to speak. Staring out the window or at the blonde hair of the little girl in front of me in wonderment took up most of my time.  The education must have entered my brain by osmosis.  But by magic the nuns did educate you; like it or not.  Bad memories you tend to put away in the back of your mind, but the good ones, the ones at good ole Ascension Grade School are indelible.      

John Tourtelot '61