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My Christmas story
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It was in 1994. I was 36yo and my father had recently passed away. I had two daughters6 and 3yo and had been unemployed for 2 years. Xmas was looking bleak, we were poor and I found it impossible to find work. I was good with handyman work though and my mind went into mania mode...I found a way I could give my girls a great xmas.
I designed the perfect cubby house. It had dormer windows, was portable and painted bright colours. Pink with grey and green with cream. Or any colour they ordered. I built one and took it to a town show and kids wouldnt get out of it. Mums had to drag them out. I knew I was onto something.
This idea was my temporary saviour. Because my marriage was on the rocks and I had little idea of my mental illnesses. All I knew was I was going downhill fast.
I withdrew our last dollars to buy more floorboards and advertised in the trading post. Two weeks later I had orders for14 cubbies all to be delivered xmas eve. I frantically began to build and borrow more money to buy more materials. I toiled for 19 hours a day.
Xmas eve arrived and at 4am I woke to a "town" of brightly coloured cubbies on our backyard where my daughters had played for the last few weeks. One by one they were delivered all over the Victorian state towed by my old trusty Ford Zephyr.
19 hours later I had the last cubby on the trailer bound for Melbourne 2 hours away. I was spent, exhausted but I was estatic. My pocket was full of money...around $8000 of which $2000 was to be repaid in materials. I delivered the cubby. The parents of that lucky girl got me to eat santas carrot cake and in front of this couple I burst into tears totally overcome and exhausted.
I drove home and a few kilometres from home I realised I'd forgotten to buy my daughters a xmas gift. All our money had gone into building materials and I was so busy delivering cubbies- I'd forgot. I drove another hour to arrive at a service station at a town named Kalkallo on the outskirts of Melbourne, the only place where gift could be purchased. The only "gifts" were $3 beach balls. And so two were purchased.
I got home at 3am. My wife did have two xmas stockings she filled with nick knacks and we wrapped the balls in xmas paper. Our children woke and they loved their beach balls and stockings.
There has never been a better xmas. Two weeks later we got a new fridge and filled it and the pantry with food.
Two months later I got a job.
I've believed ever since....that you can make your own luck in life.
Merry xmas
Tony WK
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Hi Geoff,
Any time is the right time to share your story with us all. I am looking forward to reading what you have to share with us.
Tony's story about the cubby houses is excellent. It reminds me about our cubby house at home. Our Dad built one for us when we were kids.
Mum tells the story that someone complained to the local council because Dad had built us the cubby house without going through council. Apparently the councillor just told this person that it was wonderful that our Dad had build us a cubby house and more Dad's should do the same thing.
It was quite large and we had so many excellent days out there in our own little house!
When my husband and I bought our second home and my nieces came around to see the place, my youngest niece was very upset as we had not thought to build a cubby house there!
It is wonderful to recall the happy memories of childhood.
Thanks all for contributing and adding on your stories here.
From Mrs. Dools
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Well arent those pictures above grand.
Memories of how you can make a bleak xmas, memorable...
Tony WK
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Oh Tony!
That story is just as gorgeous to me now as it was to others in 2014. Thank you for sharing it with us.
The best part for me was how you bought the $3 beach balls. I remember my Dad buying my sister and I each a bottle of fanta and sitting in the back of his car sliding on the bench seat sipping it in straws. He didn't need to buy us anything fancy. I remember that one memory (fizzy orange soda. hot sticky leather. Dad's gruff voice) clearer than any of my other childhood memories.
Because it was something my Dad chose (not with any prodding from Mum) to do with us girls to make us happy because he loved us even if he was a blokey bloke and had no idea how to show it.
Thank you Tony.
❤ Nat
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Hi Nat
Ive noticed you tend to cherish the principle of actions which, I think has strong merit.
Your memory of those fanta drinks, the smell of leather seats, the fact that your dad provided them, all important but often not remembered by some as they grow.
As a child I would wake around 3am xmas morning quiet as a mouse. I'd unwrap my presents ,one year was a racing car set and once I got it going then opened my younger sisters present...yuk! A bride doll...stick the wrapping back on. Open my brothers...great- battling tops! A small very noisy game....stick wrapping back on....wake my 8yo sister. .."hey sis, santa has come, you might get a present "...ok, youve opened it now, you are the blue car and I'm the red car, squeeze that trigger lets race....
Oh Tony! ..."its only a bride doll sis, this is better..."
Ive apologised every xmas since
Tony WK
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Hi Tony 😊
Thanks. You always see things from a perspective I haven't considered... I value that.
That is a sweet memory too. More so because of how you apologise. I think some of my strongest memories are bittersweet like that.
Not ones for Croix's happy memories threads but so utterly vivid and important to shape me. Because of like you said... The memory of the thought behind the actions not the actions themselves. Lessons I learnt about being a human being.
Sitting under the tree at my Grandparent's house and one by one we kids chose a gift and gave it to the recipient (not allowed to choose our own). We would read the tag aloud. Opening gifts took ages. It meant we took time and chose meaningful gifts. Not expensive. Not many. But thoughtful. It was about spending time as a family not presents.
How I miss this since Grandma passed away. Christmas is so bittersweet. Lessons from a beautiful soul who made me a better person and a tradition lost for now until Christmas is at my home.
Thanks Tony. You have so many lessons to share. Which Christmas has had the biggest impact on you? The one in your story or another?
❤ Nat
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Hi Nat
The one at the top of this thread is the most vivid in my memory and I was 34yo then.
But I have to say that since my sister and I broke off with our mother in 2010 we have slowly enjoyed our xmas more and more. Its well documented in some older threads here but my sister and I have our illnesses due to our mothers chronic BPD, her denial, her narcissism. Her need to be the centre of attention even so much so as ruining my first wedding in 1985 and threatening to at my second wedding in 2011 saw drastic and permanent action taken to cut all ties.
Now we are relaxed, calm, loving xmas every year. That's where I got inspiration for threads like "fortress of survival", to show others how they are entitled to a good life full of love and happiness but it might include hard decisions.
Cheers. Tony WK
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Do you have a Christmas Story?
I'd love to read it.
Ton WK
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I'm all choked up. Have no words.
Beautiful story of hope and believing.
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Hi Tony,,
The story of your Christmas sounds really wonderful,
Thank you for sharing, Your determination in doing what you set out to do was amazing, you have great skills, Not only can you put pen to paper beautifully but you can also plan and build some amazing things. The train , what great imagination you have for tinkering. I think you had more enjoyment then the youngsters who rode your train..
Kindness only.
GG.
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Tony if you or 1 of the experience members are on please check new thread I need help
I've got a really bad feeling on this