In the early 1950’s we lived next to people who had four very small little square houses on their property that they rented out.  These rentals were buildings that were moved in from somewhere else and had been used in some capacity during WWII.  The people who lived in these houses were poor.

I remember one Christmas when my mother made sock dolls and other things that she put in  Christmas boxes for these families.  After dark the night before Christmas Pa and I played Santa.  We quietly went to each house and left a Christmas box by the door.

I could not have been more than 6 or 7 but this genuine expression of Christmas is the memory that has stayed with me.  My favorite Christmas story.