The Bottom of the Stairs

The Bottom of the Stairs

The sun has barely opened its eyes when the six of us tumble onto the landing at the top of the stairs.

“Shush, shush! Don’t wake them up. It’s too early!” It’s Christmas morning, and we are ready for presents.

Four weeks earlier, we had composed our lists for Santa and presented them to our mother for mailing. Santa means something different to each of us. My two youngest siblings picture a jolly elf in a red suit. The older four trust in photos from the Sears catalog and our parents’ lay-away plan. Because there are so many of us, we have a firm rule for our present requests: One large gift and three small. This rule is generally agreed upon but always broken by my brother Paul who asks for two large gifts. He says that it never hurts to ask.

Our parents emerge from their room in robes and slippers, yawning, and ask us why we are up so early. We bounce around as they slowly descend the stairs. We line up from youngest to oldest for the coming rush. The youngest will have the first look at the magic below.

Mommy lights up the tree and puts some carols on the record player. Daddy looks into the living room and calls up to us, “Who left all this coal and sticks in the living room? You kids get down here right now and clean it up!”

We squeal as we follow the youngest down the stairs. Their eyes widen as they catch the lights of the tree and the silver and gold wrappings. Then we rush past our parents and race for our gifts.

The room is full-to-bursting with presents! We rush to the spots each had labeled the night before and grab the big gift. These are never wrapped, so we share the joy. Sure enough, Paul has received his two big gifts. We open the wrapped gifts -- taking turns to enjoy each other’s pleasure. Daddy snaps photos and Mommy cooks breakfast singing along with the carols. After cleaning up the wrappings and breakfasting, we put on our finest and go to church to celebrate the reason for the day. 

I still feel the excitement of my siblings as we lined up together at the top of the stairs. I see my sleepy parents who waited at the bottom. The tree lights sparkle behind my eyes. The carols echo. I unwrap each gift again.

These many years later, I realize that the greatest present I ever received were the five at the top of the stairs and the two waiting at the bottom.

My mother still sings those carols. My siblings, separated by miles but close in spirit, still share our joys. God rest ye merry, Mom and Dad.

This year, remember those who stood “at the top of the stairs” with you and those who waited “at the bottom” to love you and rejoice.