MY CORNFLAKES CHRISTMAS©
By: Terri Keen Coffman -
Copyright 1996
It was
Christmas Eve, 1963. I knew Santa wouldn't be able to find my new home. It was
in the middle of a jungle in Central America, miles from nowhere and anybody.
There wouldn't be any tall pine tree dressed in shiny tinsel, sporting bright,
colored balls, or spicy cinnamon sticks dangling from its fragrant green
branches. There wouldn't be any of the familiar twinkling, blinking lights
needed to help Santa find his way. There wouldn't be any mysterious packages
wrapped in festive paper and tied with big, fluffy bows. There wouldn't be any
anticipation of Santa's arrival, or the wonder and excitement of the first
sight of a present-laden tree early Christmas morning. My heart was breaking! I
couldn't bear the thought of no Christmas tree. I couldn't bear the thought
that Santa wouldn't come.
Christmas
morning gently nudged me awake with the soft fanning of a light breeze. Warm
rays of sunshine gently caressed my cheek as the squawks and cries of
color-splashed macaw parrots heralded the new day. Sleepily, I stumbled out of
my room to gaze longingly at the empty wall where my Christmas tree should have
been. My eyes popped open wide. Squeals of utter, complete joy filled the house
as I ran further into the room.
There,
in the corner, a silvery bucket held a large spray of fresh bamboo. Wild jungle
flowers, tucked among sinewy branches, added a myriad of bright colors to which
no Christmas ornaments could compare. Dewdrops glistened and twinkled amidst
the slender leaves and hung like tiny crystal balls off their fragile tips.
Crowning the top, delicate snowy bridal veil and feathery maiden-hair fern embraced
a small cluster of petite mountain orchids.
Below
my jungle Christmas tree lay two packages. Simple brown paper tied with string
replaced the usual red and gold wrappings. But it didn't matter. In bold, block
letters, my name was written on both of them! Santa had found me after all!
Exploding
with excitement, I couldn't wait any longer! My trembling hands tore at the
trappings that held my presents from me. Salty, joyful tears trickled down my
face as I hugged my treasures close. My heart bubbled over with happiness. He
came! He came! Santa got my letter and he remembered! And, oh! Santa came!
A box
of Kelloggs® Cornflakes and a can of sweet milk may not seem like
much to most kids. But, in the jungle, one does not have easy access to
civilization and oh! how I missed my American breakfasts! I dug deep into the
large, overflowing bowl my mother fixed for me, and shoveled a heaping spoonful
of crunchy, milk-moistened flakes in my mouth.
The
deep, raspy crunching sound of the crispy cereal made it fun to eat. I plugged
my ears with my fingers and chewed vigorously. Sounding like heavy boots
stomping on a graveled road, the deep well-like effects marched through my
ears. Chewing with an open mouth turned the juicy smacking into a game of skill
to keep the milk from running down my chin before my greedy tongue darted out
to capture each sweet drop.
Looking
back, there has never been a bowl of cereal I have enjoyed so much, or a
Christmas tree more beautiful, or a time more magical than that which I fondly
remember as my Cornflakes Christmas.
©