Hartley Neita, Contributor

By the time she was five years plus, my eldest daughter, Michelle, had accompanied her mother and me to two of the annual Times Store Santa Claus Christmas Parades in downtown, Kingston. She had sat on Santa's knee and received a personal gift from the old fellow. She noticed too, that he wore a red tam and that his tunic was also red.

She remembered that on the previous two Christmas mornings she had awaken to find a red Christmas stocking packed with a baby doll, a pack of starlights, a bag of balloons, and a box of jacks in her bed. By then, too, she observed that the leaves of the poinsettia plants in our garden became red at this season. And every day she heard the song Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer being played on the radio.

Christmas to her was, therefore, red.

It seemed to her, however, that Christmas Day took a long time to come that year. Every morning she woke and looked beside her for the Christmas stocking and there was none. Every day, she asked her mother and me when Christmas would come. And each time she asked, we told her that Christmas was just around the corner.

The walk

Now every afternoon, her mother gave her a bath, combed and plaited her hair and tied bows in the plaits, put on well-shined shoes, socks, and a pretty dress. When I came home, she rushed at me with her brother and sister to see who would get the first hug, and who would receive the first lollipop or mint stick which I hid behind my back.

By the time Christmas was two days away she became anxious. So, between the time of getting dressed, and the time I was expected home, she asked the maid to take her for a walk. The road on which we lived joined two main roads and was about 100 yards long. Our house was about midway. Her feet then were no taller than 12 inches so her steps were short.

The walk was long to the end of the road.

When she arrived at the junction she looked to the right. Down the road. She did not see Christmas. She peered at the sidewalks and the banks and the fences of the houses. She saw no Christmas. So she looked to the left, at the road, the sidewalks and fences. Still no Christmas. But as her mother and father always told the truth and had told her that Christmas was just around the corner, it had to be at the other end of the road.

She held the hand of the maid tightly, and started to walk the road again. Her feet were tired but she was determined to find Christmas. It was a marathon walk. Step by step.

Finally, she reached the other corner. Once again she looked to the right, along the road. She did not see Christmas. Her eyes shifted to the sidewalks and the banks, and at the fences hiding the houses across the road from her sight. Still, there was no Christmas. But her parents always told her the truth and they had assured her that Christmas was just around the corner.

So she closed her eyes as she turned to look to the left. Christmas was not on the road. Not on the fences on the other side of the road, and not on the sidewalks. Tears welled her eyes. Could her parents have told her a lie?

And then, eureka! Just beside her on the road bank there was a heap of branches and leaves the gardener must have thrown over the fence. And in the middle of the heap was a piece of red cloth.

It was Christmas. And as her mother and father told her, it was just around the corner.

Her feet were no longer tired, and she danced and hopped and skipped her way home.