HUGH’S NEWS & VIEWS

NOTHING FOR CHRISTMAS

It was the Christmas of 1946. I was in the fourth grade at Maude Saunders Elementary School in DeFuniak Springs, Florida. Mrs. Gertrude Campbell was my teacher, an excellent teacher and one of whom I said for many years she was my favorite teacher. I’m sure that making all A’s in all subjects for the entire year had something to do with her being my favorite. (The feat of all A’s in all subjects was repeated in the fifth grade under Mrs. Thelma Adkisson, but, alas, such a stellar scholastic record did not continue to prevail throughout my academic career!)

I do not recall all of the things I got for Christmas that year, but I do recall getting a football and probably a cap pistol and holster set, something I dearly loved. My family was not wealthy by any means, but mother and daddy always saw to it that we children (my brother was born the following February, so for the Christmas of 1946 it was just my sister and me) got several of the things we had asked for and probably some things like shirts, blouses, socks, and underwear that we had not asked for!

A day or two after Christmas I was outside playing with my football and other “stuff.” Lester (last name withheld for obvious reasons) came walking by our house. Our house was at the very end of North 9th Street, just past the city limits, and Lester lived on down the road from us and out into the edge of the country. He also was in the fourth grade and in Mrs. Campbell’s room. I asked Lester what he got for Christmas. I never have forgotten his answer. “I didn’t get anything,” he said. I felt bad for Lester and did not know what to say. I knew his family was poor, that they lived in inadequate housing, that his clothes were somewhat shabby. I knew that his father could be mean and abusive. I had once seen Lester walking home, his father a few steps behind him with a thick, long switch in his hand, lashing Lester with it every few steps.

When school resumed after the holidays, Mrs. Campbell asked each student to tell what they got for Christmas. When it came Lester’s turn, he rattled off a list of things (including a football) that he had received. J. B. (last name also withheld but my DeFuniak readers, some of whom go back to those elementary school days, will likely know who I am talking about), piped up and said to Lester in front of the whole class, “You told me you didn’t get anything!” Lester said nothing and quietly went back to his desk. I said nothing, but inside I hurt for Lester. I knew that he had lied to the class about what he got for Christmas, but I also knew that he was embarrassed to admit that he had gotten nothing when all of his classmates had been telling about what they got. When my own children always got so much for Christmas, and when my grandchildren now get so much, I often think of Lester.

Next week, D.V., we will celebrate another Christmas. Most of us will get more toys (including tech toys), gadgets, athletic equipment, shoes, shirts, sweaters, scarves, ties, bathrobes, house slippers, jewelry, and just general “stuff” than we really need. We all will eat more rich food than we need to eat.

Wherever Lester is (assuming he is still living), I hope he will be surrounded by a loving family, that he will be able to give something to his children and grandchildren, and that he will get something for Christmas himself.

Hugh Fulford

December 17, 2013

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