Mary, although she was my cousin, was always very old to me. When I was a small child, she was already part way into her sixties because we were separated by several generations. My father had developed a passion for genealogy and was, therefore, able to inform me that Mary was my double first cousin three times removed.
What this means in more common language is that I have to trace back through my family tree three generations before Mary and I share a common ancestor. And, as it turns out, my great grandfather and Mary's father were brothers. The double portion of the above genealogical designation is given when two siblings from one family marry two siblings from another, making their children double cousins instead of merely cousins. And, that's what happened in my family when my great grandfather and Mary's father, who were brothers married two young women who, as it turns out, were sisters. And so, Mary and I were indeed double cousins three times removed.
My first introductions to Mary came at Christmas time. She put up a large Display on her property ever year immediately following Thanksgiving and played Christmas music every night through January first from dusk until 10pm. Her house sat back on a five acre property which was dotted with a couple dozen thirty to forty foot blue spruce trees, all of which were adorned with large festive lights. There was a life sized nativity which occupied the most prominent part of the property with Santa and his reindeer back and to the left of the nativity as you faced it with Rudolph leading the team while Santa's mechanical arm waved to everyone who passed by.
It may sound a little cheesy, but it really was quite well done. The artwork in the display was commissioned and very beautiful, especially for the nativity scene which came complete with Mary, Joseph, shepherds, sheep, the wise men and their caravans of camels bearing gifts and, of course, baby Jesus lying in a manger with a brilliant star overhead.
Even the music selected was special and she selected recordings from the finest artists of her time singing Christ centered Christmas carols. None of the Santa Clause stuff although as mentioned above, he did play a part in her display. In fact, the first Saturday in December was the day that Santa came to greet people from my town in front of Mary's display. She always stood at his side as he asked all of the children what they wanted that year for Christmas and then gave them a candy cane treat to take home with them. Santa Clause was really good at his job and seemed to know many of the children's names as they passed by in their cars with their parents. When I was a small child, Santa knew my name. This impressed me deeply and allowed me to cling to my belief in Santa Clause a little longer than I might otherwise have done.
I found out later that Santa was played by the principal of one of the local elementary schools, but his costume and the way he spoke and laughed had us all convinced that this Santa was the real deal, and we never recognized him as anyone other than Santa...and of course Santa would know our names wouldn't he? He did keep a list, after all.
It was an event in my town attended by hundreds and hundreds of families. We all made our way to Mary's house to open the Christmas season by talking with Santa and getting our first Christmas treat of the year. The line of cars which formed that night was typically over a half mile long. The long wait served to fuel the anticipation the young children felt as they waited for their turn to give Santa a hug and tell him what they wanted for Christmas.
This was a tradition that Mary started during the World War II. During this war, she wrote monthly to all of the men from our community who served in the armed forces during that time. There were over a hundred of them so she wrote several letters a day to keep up. The letters were an act of service and love and a way for her to express her gratitude to them for their service.
One year around Christmas time she asked them if she could do anything for them. The majority of them said no and that what they truly wanted was for the war to end, peace to be established, and for a speedy return to their families and loved ones. With the war still raging, the next year she started her Christmas display and this was her way of reminding the world of the peace the Savior's life and teachings embody and her way of wishing a speedy end to the war so these men whom she'd grown to love through their correspondence could return home to their families.
The Christmas display was maintained clear through my childhood and into my adult years. When I became a teenager my brothers and I along with a couple of close friends helped her maintain her display and we set it up for her for nearly fifteen years. Santa's arm broke a few times and had to be repaired. The speakers had to be set up and wired to the amplifiers so Christmas music would greet people as they passed. The lights all had to be tested and those which wouldn't light had to be replaced. This was harder than it may sound at first because by the time my brothers and I had taken custody of these duties, her trees where the lights resided were about forty feet tall. There were hundreds of twenty five watt bulbs on each tree and there were about fifteen trees lit up for the display.
After it was all lit up one day my brother called me over to the electric meter. It was back in the day when they were analog and mechanical with a little motor turning a disk which would cause a mechanical counter to count up the amount of power consumed. We were both amazed at how fast the disk on that meter was spinning. It was turning several revolutions per second. Neither of us had ever seen one turn that fast The fastest we had seen one turn before that day was maybe a couple of revolutions per minute. So, she was using something like thirty times as much power as a typical home. That display cost her a fortune every year in power. And when I knew her, she didn't have very much money. She must have saved all year to afford the power bill she got in January when she finally shut off the lights in her display for the last time of the year.
After everything was set up she would come out for the final inspection of our work. We did it long enough that we learned her preferences. But at first, while were still learning how she liked things set up, we would have to reposition things several times until they were just right. When we were new to the job it was a little frustrating, but her desire to do things right, and I mean just right, became one of her most endearing qualities. We all grew to love her very much.
Her obsessive nature to make things just right also meant that whenever she was doing something for me, that I would undoubtedly be surprised and amazed with the result. When viewed from that perspective, it was definitely a win-win situation and I benefited many times from the gifts of thanks and other kind and thoughtful things she would do for me.
After her final inspection was complete and everything was finished and in its proper place she would invite us into her home to a Thanksgiving feast. She never paid us in money, but we were always well paid. It was her way of saying thank you.
We would arrive at her place to set things up at nine in the morning and finish up around two in the afternoon. That day Mary was up by four in the morning to prepare the turkey and get it into the oven seasoned with her home grown and hand rubbed sage. She would slow roast and baste the turkey religiously every fifteen minutes until it was done four to six hours later. There were no dry birds in Mary's oven and everything was alway top quality and fit to be served in any of the finest restaurants anywhere in the world. And of course her four course meals were always served on her fine antique china paired with lead crystal and her finest silverware.
I remember one year when Santa got sick and wasn't able to come on the day that the developmentally disabled children came to Mary's house to see him and get their candy cane treat. In desperation, Mary called my brother and asked him to fill in. When we got there, Mary told him that these mentally impaired kids really did believe in Santa and that he should assume that identity completely and that if he could pull that off, he would bring a lot of joy into their lives. Just as she was finishing up her talk about how to be a good Santa four busses full of Santa's most adoring fans pulled up and screeched to a stop. Mary said have fun with this and you'll remember this experience for the rest of your life. My brother turned to Mary and said, Don't worry Mary, I can do this.
Just as he said that, the door on the first bus swung open and up he went with candy canes in all his pockets and several in each hand. As he stepped up into the bus, the children erupted into shouts of joy as they all competed for his attention at the same time. Each excitedly reaching out for him or pulling him in for a hug, and if lucky, a kiss. I tried to watch to see how things were going but things happened so quickly that He seemed to literally be swallowed alive by this bus full of children. I flashed a concerned look over at Mary and she simply said, Don't worry, he'll be OK.
Still, I wasn't convinced until he finally did emerge from the bus. My brother looked a little rattled and unsure about entering the second bus for another bout with these true believers. And, as he was repositioning his beard and pushing his padding back into place, Mary wisely gave him one more piece of advice. She said Remember, to these children, you really ARE Santa...they'll listen to you and do whatever you ask them to do because they will want to please you. They really do love you.
A smile crossed my brother's face as he realised the importance of what she was telling him and he turned to her once again and said, Don't worry Mary, I can do this. The next busses went much smoother because Santa told them that he loved them and would visit them all, but he would visit those who stayed in their seats first. Brilliant!
I have no idea what it feels like to be a rock star and never will, but my brother does. For one hour that day on those busses, he rocked and was adored and loved as much or more than any rock star ever has been. And Mary was right, it was an experience he has remembered his entire life.
If you are beginning to get a sense that Mary was a remarkable person you should trust your instincts. I knew her well and was always amazed by her and the things I learned about her both from first hand experience and from the stories she related to me as well as those others would tell while thinking back on her life. She passed away more than twenty years ago, but I remember her well and miss her always.
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