Be careful what you ask for - a Christmas story
Many years ago, talking to a friend, he told me his son was ‘feeling the breeze’ in his business, writes Noreen Dowling. He said, “You know, Noreen, the worst thing about it all was that himself and his family had to resort to living over the shop.”
This made me think, as my husband, myself, and our three young children were living over our shop on Main Street Kilcullen at that time.
Living over the shop to me were some of the happiest times of my life. No two days the same, lots of ups and downs, but we always managed to see the fun side. How we loved the Christmas buzz, selling all the Christmas things and helping Santa Claus to deliver the very latest toys. I recall on one occasion a phone call at 4.30am from a very upset mother, who told me the dog had just chewed both legs off the Sindy Doll. A quick replacement and all was well.
One Christmas Eve I will always remember. My children were appointed to help in any way they could in the shop, sweeping, cleaning, etc (along with eating the profits). My son’s duties required him at front of house, carrying boxes, bags etc to customers’ cars and bicycles. He was helping one country lady with her purchases, filling a large box on the carrier of her bicycle and hanging numerous bags on the handlebars. It was certainly a complete load.
Suddenly she said to my son, “hold the bicycle, I forgot to get a message from the supermarket.” He, being eight or nine at the time, had great difficulty balancing the bicycle and, seeing they were getting nowhere, the lady said “here, you go into the supermarket and get the message”, handing him cash and telling him her order. He obliged and returned with a brown paper bag which she placed very securely among her groceries. Everyone happy, my son received his reward, and with a ‘Season’s Greetings’ proclaimed, the lady headed for home.
The day came to a close and, everyone feeling tired with the pressure of the day, we all sat down to a well-deserved evening meal. Out of the blue, my son piped up: “Mam, do you know that lady who comes in from the country for her shopping?” I replied, “yes.” He then asked me, “does she have a lot of babies?” Not knowing where the conversation was going, I said, “why are you asking me that?” He replied, “she asked me today to go into the supermarket for three tins of baby powder.”
Being a long time in the world myself, and knowing the lady was past child-bearing years, and also that she had a little fondness for a ‘drop of the cratur’, I realised that the order was meant to be three ‘Baby Powers’. It was not going to be a merry Christmas in that house!
When I remember that Christmas I smile, and always think of the Christmas song, ‘The Little Girl that Santa Claus Forgot’. Living over the shop was life’s university and I feel blessed that it was such a large part of my life.
ED NOTE: Noreen is a contributor to The Bridge magazine. This seasonal piece arrived too late for the current December issue, and we're delighted to publish it on the Diary instead.
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