Tropical Zone Gardening: It's the season to be jolly... so there's no... without..., 1 by goofybulb

goofybulb wrote:
In my first year of school, suspicions started to rise. Almost all kids would say Mos Craciun doesn't exist. I didn't want to believe that, and fought by all means with those stoopid kids, secretly telling myself that he will not come to their house anymore just because of that. We complained a lot about those kids. Our family ignored our complaints.Evening of the Christmas Eve came again. The access to the living door was still denied in the evening.

That was the first year when Santa didn't come. He got sick. No, I'm serious! He got sick, and couldn't ride his sleigh. So he called us. I looked behind me, while holding the phone (I guess it was my first phone conversation too), and counted: Mom, Dad, Buita, Bubu. All of them... I'll show those kids... Yes, Mos Craciun, I've been good, ...did my homework, ...yes, listened to Mommy... really? Already? In the living room? ...Under the tree?
I couldn't wait to hang up on him, but I refrained myself, told him a short poem, then ran into the living room. There it was, the Christmas tree, as Mos Craciun said. And under the tree, the presents!

The year after that was the first time I saw my Daddy carrying a tree into our yard. Then and in all the other years to come, our family started the tradition of decorating the Christmas tree. We would all participate, even Mom and Buita, who were always busy in the last hours before "Santa would come". It was probably a deal, between us and Mos Craciun: if we decorate the tree, then presents will arrive.

Of course by now we would not try to catch Santa's arrival anymore. We would willingly go to our room, until somebody would say: "Santa was here!". And there were always presents under the Christmas tree. In all the years, hard, bad or good, Mos Craciun always came. In the years to come, of course the mystery of Mos Craciun's arrival would be solved... our house has two entries, one that we were told that is blocked. I think I was 12-13 when I first entered through that entrance. The little hallway was the presents' hiding place, and for a while it was locked every "before Christmas"...

Until this day, and until forever, our Christmas tree will be decorated on Christmas Eve. I don't know why to us Santa Claus comes on this day, when in most other countries he comes at night, when nobody could see him. It's not only my home, but the homes of many, if not most, Romanians.

While my husband and I are still waiting for Mos Craciun, he already went and delivered presents back home. He now has another kid to treat in our childhood house. My sweet nephew told his poem and sang his little song as fast as he could, so Mos Craciun would give him his presents. He was also asked if he was good, listened to his parents and his Bubu, ...you know, the works! He very well deserved his presents from Santa.

What surprises me is that we're still kids, and there is a present, unopened, under the tree back home. Apparently, we were good, my hubby and I. So Mos Craciun left us a present there, and maybe a few here... My Dad will come here to deliver the present from Mos Craciun, but for me he'll be the best present to come from our home far, far away.

Hello, Carol! Yes, that was me a long, long time ago; if the year is correct, I was 3 years old then.

Merry Christmas my dear friends!
Hugs,
Alexandra