It was Christmas, 1951. I was at home with my two brothers and two sisters. Christmas Eve was spent in corners wrapping and labelling presents. After supper, about 8.30, we all sat around the television and looked at, "Christmas in other Lands" Some scenes brought my heart to my mouth with excitement, while others made it sink down to my shoes. At 9.30 we all retired to bed. I was so excited, being only eleven years old, that I could hardly sleep. I was awakened when "Father Christmas" came in. He was, of course, my father. I pretended to be asleep as well as I could. Apparently, he thought I was, for after a bit of knocking about at the foot of my bed, he went out, shutting the door after him. About 15 minutes later 1 heard him go into his room. I then climbed out of bed, picked up my pillow case, and went into the bathroom on pretence of getting a drink of water. I locked the door and started to explore the contents of my pillow case. The first thing I came across was a half-pound bag of coffee crunch, a present from my father, then came the Christmas "Sock," as it was termed in our house. It contained the usual contents of oranges, apples, nuts and sweets. Then came a large cardboard box all done up in wrapping paper, it contained a clock-work trolley-bus. I did feel excited. Then there came a tap at the door. "Hello," I said through the keyhole. "What are you doing in there?" asked the voice of my elder brother, Brian. "Having a drink of water." I replied, via the keyhole. "What, with the door locked! Come on, I know what you are doing, get back to bed." I sighed, then putting my presents back, I thought "Never mind, I'll have something to look forward to in the morning." I then unlocked the door and walked out, with my pillow case over my shoulder. Brian stood outside the door with his hands behind his back. He stepped into the bathroom and I went to my bedroom. I was just getting into bed when a thought struck me. Again, I picked up my pillow case and sallied forth to the bathroom. Looking through the keyhole I saw Brian exploring the contents of his pillow case. I smiled to myself. I knocked on the door and said, "What are you doing in there?" "Washing my hands," came the reply. "What, with the door locked?" I said. "Come on, open the door and let me in. I can see you through the keyhole." Brian unlocked the door and I entered, shutting it behind me. We then had a most delightful time looking at our presents. PAUL G. BOOT
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