The Similkameen News Leader
Editorial
December 18, 2007
ROCKIN' 'ROUND THE CHRISTMAS TREE
There was a conversation not long ago in a place you may have been. It involved a line up of customers waiting for service in a very well known establishment. As a way of passing the time someone in line asked the others a question.
"What was the best Christmas gift you received?" The question generated smiles, giggles and one person slipped into a coma. Okay, that was us slipping deep in thought. "A rock," was one answer.
"A rock?"
"Yes, we eventually called it our Christmas Rock. When I was growing up our family was poor and all me any my brothers had to play with was a stick and a rock. We'd play with that rock all day, every day. Then one cold December afternoon the rock disappeared. We first thought the neighbour kid was jealous and swiped our rock but two weeks later, under the Christmas tree we found a shiny new rock. It was painted in a bright red so we wouldn't lose it and when Dad gave it to us we promised to be more careful with our rock." By this time the line up had come to a screeching halt and everyone in the building stopped what they were doing to hear this Christmas Rock story.
"Each year, until I was 21, we'd have a rock to play with and about a week before Christmas it would mysteriously disappear and for some reason we'd find a brightly painted rock under the Christmas tree. One year it was blue, the next it was green and once it was yellow."
Someone started pulling people in from off the street to hear this story.
"Every Christmas we got us a brand new rock to play with. It was our Daddy's way of giving us the gift of Christmas when he couldn't afford to give us anything else."
We had to ask something, being curious newspaper reporter types.
"Where's that rock now?"
"When my Daddy passed away, we could hardly afford to properly cover funeral costs and the like, so we had some help from friends and neighbours. We buried that rock along with Daddy as our way of saying thanks for all the great Christmas memories he gave us as we were growing up." We all nodded and said it was a great story. No one else answered the first question. The rock was a tough Christmas gift to beat, no doubt about it. It was the best video game or baseball or bicycle you could have. The rock was anything you wanted it to be, as long as you took care of it and never lost it.
It made us consider opening a Christmas Rock store downtown, but that would just take away from the true meaning of the Christmas Rock.
Then the line up moved swiftly and the old man who told us the story walked out of the store and back onto the street and disappeared.
But we never have forgotten the story of the Christmas Rock, which we first heard close to ten years ago. We've never seen the old man since, but for some unexplained reason, each Christmas morning we find a rock under the tree a reminder for us of the way Christmas used to be.
