The Rubber Biskit Road Show Presents "Never Say Never: An Epic Journey – Volume One, Part Twelve – The Night Santa Saved Christmas"

The Rubber Biskit Road Show Presents "Never Say Never: An Epic Journey – Volume One,  Part Twelve – The Night Santa Saved Christmas"

Shirley, grappling with the emotional wounds inflicted by Lee Roy's wife Wilma, finds herself navigating the challenging terrain of single parenthood. The burden of raising her son and daughter weighs heavily on her shoulders, compounded by the absence of any support. Despite juggling three jobs, Shirley faces the harsh reality that she will be financially unable to provide Christmas presents and a decent meal for her children.

On Christmas Eve, the drafty house they call home amplifies the cold outside as her children huddle together for warmth. Shirley, determined to make the best of their circumstances, prepares a simple meal of toast and eggs, the last remnants of their food. As she cooks, a knock echoes through the front door, disrupting the quiet struggle within.

With a mixture of curiosity and hope, Shirley opens the door, unaware that a Christmas miracle is about to unfold. The source of the knock holds the promise of unexpected blessings, offering a glimmer of light in the midst of their bleak situation. As the door swings open, Shirley and her children are greeted with the warmth of compassion and the spirit of giving, marking the arrival of a much-needed Christmas miracle that transcends their immediate challenges.

PLEASE NOTE: This is a rebroadcast of a podcast episode from 12/20/2021. I stopped podcasting to help my wife through her battle with stage 4 breast cancer. My wife recovered and I am now ready to start podcasting once more. Over the next couple of months, I will be reposting my past podcasts and will start new episodes in 2024. 

I invite you along for the ride and to experience my creative mind which is in constant motion. My life is one of perpetual motion, and my creative journey is a testament to that boundless energy and ceaseless curiosity.

“Like a Rubber Biskit, I have spent my life bouncing from here to there and back to here again.”  -The GYPSY-

"NEVER SAY NEVER: AN EPIC JOURNEY - VOLUME ONE" is now available on Amazon in Kindle, Paperback and Hardcover Book form. CLICK HERE! 

I'm The GYPSY and You're Not and This Is The Rubber Biskit Road Show Presented By Artist Alley Studio Featuring The Artisan, Handcrafted and Branded Creations of The GYPSY and Mad Hatter. Visit Us At www.ArtistAlleyStudio.com

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Visit The Rubber Biskit Road Show On The Web At  www.RubberBiskit.com
Tatman Productions LLC. Copyright 2021 - All Rights Reserved. No Parts of The Podcast May Be Copied, Reproduced or Used Without The Express Written Permission Of The Artist.

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Chapters

• 0:00 Episode Beginning
• 2:14 The Night Santa Saved Christmas
• 13:41 Episode End

Transcript

THE NIGHT SANTA SAVED CHRISTMAS

The wind rustled the plastic on the windows at 433 East High Street in Topeka, Kansas popping the artificial storm windows in and out like the breathing of some transparent rectangular monster trapped within the window frame. This was made even more unsettling by the fact that the plastic adorned the windows on the inside of the house and not the outside.

Jimmy and Patty sat on the couch; a blanket wrapped around their bodies to insulate them from the cold. The floor heater cracked and groaned but did little good to chase off the cold in the drafty un-insulated little house on Topeka’s east side. Jimmy and Patty watched the old GE black and white TV reflect images of Bing Crosby as he, Rosemary Clooney, Vera Ellen and Danny Kaye sang about a White Christmas.

Jimmy looked over at the little tree in the corner, the red, green and gold bubble lights sending their tiny endless stream of bubbles up the tubes to go nowhere and disappear in the glass tip of the cylinder. He then looked back at the black and white image of the tree behind the four singers and though their tree was gray within the flickering image Jimmy knew it was a grander tree than he would ever have.

“Is Santa coming tonight?” asked Jimmy’s seven-year-old sister. “Yes,” Jimmy assured Patty, “But only after you’re asleep. Jimmy was 13 and had stopped believing in Santa Claus when he was 9 or 10. Jimmy did pray however that if Santa Claus was real and he was wrong about his existence that he would brave this cold Kansas Christmas eve night and visit their house. 

Jimmy got up off the couch and led his sister to the bedroom she shared with their Mother, Shirley. Tucking her into her bed Jimmy went back into the living room and curled up on the couch to wait for his Mom to come home from work.

As he watched a Cockroach scurry across the floor, he prayed that his Mom would remember to pick up some bug spray when she came home from work. The roaches had been bad for the past few days ever since they had run out of the deadly aerosol the week before. 

Jimmy watched the little brown creature explore the floor and wondered what went through a roach’s head as they scampered to and fro. He hated cock roaches and had no remorse as he picked up a shoe and smashing it flat upon the bare painted plywood floor.

Ah, thought the boy, a heel goes through their head. He chuckled at his own small joke. Jimmy left the carcass lie and turned his attention back to the old TV where the Norelco Santa was sledding down the hill on an electric razor.

Jimmy had dozed and was dreaming of dancing mice and singing slugs when the sound of the front door opening jerked him awake. “Hi Mom,” he said rubbing sleep from his eyes, “what’s for dinner?”

Normally Jimmy would not ask such a question as he was perfectly capable of fixing his and his sister’s meals when his mom wasn’t there but there was no food left in the house and the two children had not eaten that day. 

Shirley looked at her son with a forced smile and said, “Tonight we are going to do breakfast for dinner.” She held up a bag that contained a loaf of day-old bread and a carton of a dozen eggs.” Jimmy knew what that meant for he had to eat breakfast for dinner before. It meant mom had no money, so she had scraped together some change to buy the quarter loaf Butter Krust bread and the thirty-five-cent carton of eggs. It was the cheapest meal his mom could throw together outside of a box of Macaroni and Cheese which was also a staple in this home.

Jimmy took the brown paper bag from his mom and headed for the kitchen to drop bread in the toaster and heat up the skillet for eggs. Before he dropped the bread into the toaster, he turned it upside down and gave it a shake. The cock roaches liked to hide inside the silver box to feast upon the breadcrumbs on the bottom. Jimmy hated the smell of cooking roach, so he always checked to make sure none were in the machine before inserting the bread.

Shirley sat down on the couch exhausted. She worked three jobs and still could not make ends meet. She would finish her shift as a proofreader then rush across the street to Pelletier’s Department store where she would assemble bicycles for rich children and wrap presents for even richer parents. On Saturday and Sunday, she worked as a PBX switchboard operator for an answering service near Washburn University. 

If it wasn’t for the “Aid To Dependent Children” check, she received from the state every month to pay her rent and the government food commodity allotment she received she might have had to give up her children to Social Services to be placed in foster care. Sometimes she wondered if the children wouldn’t be better off. 

Shirley felt fortunate to have her job at Pelletier’s, especially since she and her mother had exchanged words three years previous, which had led to the eviction of Shirley and her children from her mother’s home. 

Her mother could have fired her from Pelletier’s but didn’t. Her mother was a manager at the large upscale department store. Maybe, Shirley would often think to herself, she keeps me on to alleviate her guilt for kicking me and the children to the curb.  

The truth of the matter was this; however, Pearl, Shirley’s mother, did not feel guilty nor had she tossed her grandchildren out. She had told Shirley to leave but that the grandchildren could remain, but Shirley had chosen, through stubborn pride, to take her children with her. 

Though Pearl refused to speak with her daughter until Shirley apologized for what she had said to her during that argument 3 years hence, Pearl kept Shirley working. Shirley was dependable, a phenomenal gift wrapper and a skilled assembly person and Pearl knew it would be bad business to fire such a person from the Pelletier’s team, daughter or no daughter.

Shirley could smell the eggs Jimmy was cooking and looked up as her daughter exited the bedroom rubbing her eyes. “Mommy I’m hungry.” the little girl said rubbing her eyes. “I know dear,” Shirley said as she brushed the child’s hair from her face with her hand, “Your brother is fixing eggs.”

 Shirley looked at her daughter and hoped she would go back to sleep quickly after eating her eggs and toast. Shirley wanted to finish knitting a poncho that she was making for her daughter. She prayed that Patty would believe that Santa had brought it to her for Christmas. Shirley did not know what she would tell her son, but she hoped that he would understand why he was getting no present this particular year.

Shirley sighed and laid her daughter on the couch. Covering her daughter with a knit blanket she had made and told her that she would call her when the food was ready. 

Well, thought Shirley, I better go back and let Jimmy know that there will be no Christmas presents for him this year. 

Shirley was standing in the kitchen at the back of the house explaining to Jimmy how it is not important to receive gifts on Christmas when the knock came at the front door.

At first it was ever so soft and could have been just the wind shaking the door when the knock came again. A little louder and more urgent Mother and son both looked towards the front door as Patty cried out, “Mommy, someone’s at the door.” 

Shirley and son headed for the front of the small house. Shirley was concerned for it was almost 10:00pm and she couldn’t imagine who would be knocking on her door this late on a Christmas Eve. Jimmy got to the door first and flung it wide letting a blast of cold air fill the house.

Jimmy stood slack jawed looking at the box upon box upon box that filled the front porch. Shirley was speechless and could not imagine that what she was looking at dozens of brightly wrapped packages was real. Patty put a name to it as she scurried towards the front porch and the gifts it bore. “SANTA” the little girl cried out, “SANTA.” 

Jimmy, his mom and sister spent the next few minutes bringing packages into the house. As they got towards the bottom of the stack Shirley discovered several boxes filled with food including one box just full of wrapped meat from a butcher shop. One box had canned goods while another had things like pasta and cereal. But the box that fascinated Jimmy the most was the one that contained a turkey that was almost as big as his sister.

The children begged their mother to let them open the presents, but she told them “NO, Santa wants you to open your presents on Christmas.” But the children weren’t listening, all they knew was that there were presents to be opened so Shirley relented and let them pick one package each to open. 

Patty’s package contained a new “Malibu Barbie” doll while Jimmy’s package contained a Zorro Hand Puppet. How did Santa know that I like puppets? Jimmy wondered as he fell off to sleep later with a full stomach.

Christmas day the packages revealed a Cornucopia of presents for the children. Dolls, Games, Slot Car Racetracks, Hot Wheels Cars, Doll Clothes just to mention a few of the children’s items. 

There were also clothes for the children from socks to shoes to sweaters to coats. There were new dresses, new pants and new shirts galore. 

Shirley watched as the children ripped open and revealed their presents and she knew that Santa had, in her hour of need, visited her children. She was a little sad, thinking that Santa had forgotten about her when she saw the small Robin egg blue envelope at the bottom of one of the boxes with her name typewritten across its face. Shirley picked up the envelope and with trembling hands opened it. Inside was a note that read.

Josten’s American Yearbook, Mass Ave. Topeka, KS 8:00am Monday December 29th. Shirley E. Stewart report to Proof Reading Department for orientation. Starting Salary….                

Shirley sat down hard on the couch and read the starting salary again. It was $50.00 per week more than she was making holding down 3 jobs. She swallowed hard and began to cry. 

“What’s wrong mommy?” Patty asked. Shirley looked at her children in their new clothes holding their new toys and she could smell the turkey cooking in the kitchen where the cupboards were full for the first time in a long time. 

“Nothing,” she said, “Not one damn thing.” She grabbed her daughter and pulled her close as Jimmy stepped on a cockroach. “I wish Santa had remembered the bug spray!” the boy said as he sent the pest to bug Heaven. 

They all laughed together, and each in their own way, would forever know that Santa Claus was real and had visited their small home.

***

The preceding story is a true accounting of an event that happened to me, my mother and sister on Christmas Eve of 1969.

In March 1981 during the last visit, I had with my Grandmother before she passed away the subject of this visit from Santa Claus came up. I asked my Grandmother what she knew about it and if she had a hand in it. 

She smiled that smile that let the world know that she was up to some sort of mischief then sweetly and innocently said, “Now Jimmy as I recall I may have said something to Santa about Shirley needing some help, but it’s been so long ago I hardly remember.” She then changed the subject, and the matter was dropped and never brought up again until Christmas of that year.

Grandma sent a small package of presents to me, my wife and daughter for Christmas. For my wife she sent an antique silk hanky with a Parisian print on it. For my daughter, who is a Christmas miracle herself being born on Christmas Eve, she sent an old fashioned small plastic doll with a knit outfit. My Christmas package from my Grandmother contained a Zorro hand puppet and a card that merely read “Ho, Ho, Ho.” I held that puppet close to my chest a year later when news came of her passing.

Is Santa real? Yes, he is, and I will never think otherwise for he once saved Christmas for my family.