Passing Time

(image from the web as NO snow here in MN!)

This picture brings back many memories of Christmases past.

Growing up in a small, rural

town in Minnesota,

we were always assured we'd have snow.  And lots of it.

It wasn't uncommon to walk around town in snow

up to my waist.

In my family, we open our gifts to each other

Christmas Eve night.  So as a child,

Christmas Eve day could be the longest day ever!

It was always fun though.  So many people

would be dropping in with greetings and gifts for my parents.

Laughter filled the home.

Yet.

It.

Still.

Dragged.

On.

I must have been somewhat of a pain as my older siblings,

(I have 3) would eventually step in.  I can remember one brother

spending hours and HOURS with me playing board games

so I wouldn't be bored.  When he was away in the military,

I'd grab a friend or two to carry on that great past time.

One year, I got an extra special treat.

You see, my Dad was the Postmaster in our little town

and the mail carriers that worked for him were all friends of ours.

One of my best friend's dad was one of those mail carriers. 

The two dads conspired one year

and decided we could ride the mail route with Clyde

(no, it wasn't proper protocol but in those days,

it was easy to look the other way).

Anyway, I'm not too sure how we all fit in his car

which was already overflowing with cards and packages but we did.

We had Christmas carols playing on the radio

and shared many giggles down those snow covered country roads.

I think what I liked best though was seeing all

of the little gifts people left in the mailbox for their mail carriers.

Back then, of course, it was always home baked items

or bottles of something or other to drink. :)  It's just the way it was.

I can remember feeling as though we were Santa

riding in our sleigh and dropping off gifts.

Upon arriving home,

Mom would have some hot chocolate ready

and if we were lucky, a Christmas cookie or two.

It never seemed long after we arrived home

that the real fun began.

Actually,

that last line is the child in me speaking.

The adult in me longs to visit

those mail boxes once again.