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Poem
.              Each year as Christmas rolls around, as I buckle under the pressure and stress of 
shopping for gifts for people that already  have everything, I find myself remembering that 
Christmas of 1954.

	Dad had joined the army that year and we  moved from the East Coast of Canada 
to Ontario, leaving behind our extended family and the only home I had ever know in a small 
fishing village along the Bay of Fundy.

	Now we stood gazing in horror at the rows of ugly buildings sitting on barren land 
in the middle of nowhere.  This was the housing provided by the army and was a major part 
of the wage agreement.

	My mother was inconsolable until dad rented us a small apartment over a Chinese 
restaurant in downtown Barrie.  There was no remuneration by the army for forfeiting the 
housing, so it left dad with a very small pay-check

	Pay day was once a month and we usually ran out of money in the last week, so, 
off we would go to the pawn shop with dad’s prized possession; his short-wave radio, won for 
superior marksmanship.

	Being kids, we finally adjusted to our new world as we watched the Santa Claus 
Parade march below our living room window amid the honking horns, blaring bands and 
throngs of people lined along the streets as far as the eye could see as we laughed with glee.

		                              ~~~
	
	We had seen them on our way to school in the window of the bicycle shop; 
gleaming with chrome spokes and handlebars and hand grips adorned with multi-colored 
streamers.  There I would stand until my feet grew numb from the cold, daydreaming of 
riding back to the East Coast.  I could actually see the sun glistening on the waves as I raced 
along the ocean on the way to grandma’s house.  More than once I had to stay after school 
for being late. 

	My brother thought maybe if we were really good, Santa would bring those 
bicycles to us.  I being the older and therefore the wiser, knew the state of the real Santa’s 
affairs and promptly convinced my brother I had heard from a reliable source Santa had a 
shortage of bicycles this year and we would just have to earn the money and buy them 
ourselves.


                                                    Continued in part 2....
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