December 15, 2006

Silicon Valley Mom

The Ghost of Christmas Past

By Dona Nichols
Special to the Times

The ghost of Christmas past gives me a nostalgic yearning for the good old days when I could threaten my kids with a quick call to Santa. This was the fastest and most efficient way to elicit good behavior from my children.

I could say something like, “I’ve got Santa Claus on speed dial and I’m not afraid to use it.” Another favorite was to actually call him and say, “Santa, don’t bother coming by the Nichols house this year because Dylan just spray painted the dog.”

Emailing worked well too, mainly because I could print it out and show written proof that I had contacted the North Pole.

This era was followed by, what I refer to as, the peeking phase. This was when the kids started to snoop around so I started hiding little sacks of coal in all my closets.

My most embarrassing ghost of Christmas past was three years ago. My children were rehearsing for the Christmas pageant at our church and Cody was the narrator. I was in the church narthex with some of the other moms ironing angel costumes.

Every now and then I heard softly spoken words that sounded spooky and amplified.

I asked one of the mothers, “Did you hear that?”

We all focused and listened.

Then we all heard it.

“I see dead people,” were the words whispered throughout the church’s P.A. system.

I knew immediately it was Cody. I marched over to the sanctuary and flung open the door and there he was with the microphone. He gave me a “Grinch-like” smile knowing he was busted. Everything I had to say to him was communicated through my bulging eyeballs.

My very favorite Christmas memory is from two years ago. My neighbor’s 5-year-old granddaughter, Chyann, was eating Christmas dinner with us.

“If Mary was a virgin when she gave birth, would that mean Jesus had 23 chromosomes instead of 46?” Cody asked.
My mouth just fell open. I tried to come up with a good answer but words couldn’t form in my mouth.

“Jesus was the son of God,” my husband said.

“Does God have DNA?” Cody asked.

“Oh, I met him,” Chyann said.

“You met God? Right,” Cody said with obvious sarcasm.

“Oh yes,” said Chyann with great certainty. “He gave me a hug.”

“If you met God, then tell me what he looks like,” said Cody.

“He looks like love, like a rainbow,” Chyann said very matter-of-factly.

This was the one and only time that all of my children have been simultaneously speechless. We knew we were in the presence of something special. Love and faith in their purest form were with us at that moment.

Dona Nichols teaches journalism at San Jose State University and does stand-up comedy on the side at the Improv in downtown San Jose. She lives in Evergreen with her husband and three children. Email her at: DonaNichols@gmail.com.