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Christmas In the Fifties

Sallie is a retired mother and grandmother who has written short stories for most of her life. Her stories are from her heart to yours.


Nothing can compare to Christmas when you're a kid.

Things that only someone from that era could remember:

Venetian blinds - I think every house I knew had them.

Wallpaper - Again. Every house I remember had it.

Flocked Drapes.

Dark Woodwork.

Tinsel hanging from the tree.

A play kitchen made out of some sort of metal. I think I cut myself on it.

A "petticoat" under my dress. The fuller and scratchier, the better!

Patent leather shoes made shiny by rubbing Vaseline on them.

Ruffled, white anklets.

A beautiful dress with a red sash.

Every little girl's dream gift...a set of play china dishes.

Bangs! I had them and I think lots of little girls did.

And you can't see it, but there were huge, massive pocket doors dividing the living room from my parent's bedroom. They were paneled and I can remember my Mom struggled to pull them closed.

I remember every, square inch of that house. The house where my parents settled after marriage and the house they brought me home to from the hospital.

When I look at this photo, I feel as though I can step into it and see everyone happy and singing and hear the laughter and sound of that little piano clanging and I can almost smell my Dad's Old Spice after shave lotion.

And last but not least, the smile on that little girl's face on Christmas Day 1954.

Some memories will never leave me.

Thank God for that.