WARTIME CHRISTMAS

by Eloise Barton

World War II was a confusing time for a little girl. Blackouts were scary, even in Sacramento. We'd sit in the living room, listening to the big wooden cabinet radio, while the light behind the dial was the only illumination in the house. But everything was okay so long as I could sit in my mommy's lap.

While my father was in the Merchant Marine, Mama made our house seem like a branch U.S.O. Soldiers and sailors, with their girl-friends or wives, stopped by at all hours of the day and night. Many times, I woke up on the folding camp-cot because some strange grown-up was sleeping in my bed.

Every day, Mama cooked, and listened, and babysat the children while their soldier daddies took their mommies out on the day before they cried.

We tried to help everyone who came to our house be happy. I particularly remember the Christmas party we held and the show we put on for the servicemen and their ladies. The living room and dining room were filled with extra chairs and cots. Trays of sandwiches and bowls of popcorn lined the kitchen counters.

When everyone was seated, two of Mama's friends sang songs with silly words like "Marzy Doats and Dozy Doats" and "Chickery Chick Cha La Cha La." Then Mama played the piano while I sang "Silent Night." (I was too young to have stage fright. I only wished my daddy could have been there to hear me sing.) After I sang, the grown-ups joined in, singing all the songs I knew and a lot I didn't.

Suddenly, a loud knocking on the hall door announced Santa Claus was here, with presents for every one. I screamed with excitement.

Then I noticed, beneath Santa's white-fir-trimmed red pants, feet clad in sheer stockings and black patent leather shoes--with ankle straps! But I looked away, and refused to think about what that could mean. World War II was confusing enough to a little girl without having to wonder about Santa too.

So I never told Mama how funny I thought it was that during wartime, Santa Claus wore shoes just like hers!