THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, December 24, 1995 TAG: 9512210203
SECTION: CAROLINA COAST PAGE: 08 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Cover Story
SOURCE: BY MARY ELLEN RIDDLE, CORRESPONDENT
LENGTH: Long : 275 lines
EIGHT YEARS AGO, Skip Saunders' sister gave him a box of toy trains she found in their parents' attic shortly after their mother died.
Remembering a train set he loved as a boy, Skip glanced into the box but saw only some silver cars he didn't recognize. He took the trains home anyway, knowing someday his kids would like them.
The box sat in Skip's Kill Devil Hills attic until last Sunday, when he unpacked the silver trains to set them up for his three children for Christmas. But as he lifted out the unfamiliar toys, he discovered his beloved old black engine and three matching cars.
Memories exploded in his head. He remembered loving those simple cars, setting up wooden spools and barrels and stuffing clothing under oval rugs to make mountains and hills, and playing his heart out.
``This is the first time I've seen them since I was a kid,'' said Skip, 43, adding that the engine and three cars made up the whole set. ``It was a real simple train set.''
Christmas is a complicated holiday, but sometimes it's the simplest things we best remember.
Memories of sharing, family, home-cooked meals and carols shine as the brightest holiday moments.
But Christmas also involves changing times, values, religion or myths.
For some, snow is a must or it just doesn't feel right. Others usher in the holiday on bended knee at midnight Mass. Families may draw names for gifts or buy for everyone - including Cousin Jesse (twice removed), the family dog and the three guinea pigs.
Whatever your style, inclination or situation, Christmas is very personal. It can be celebrated on a street corner, in the corner of your heart, or by cornering the toy market at Macy's.
Like his old train set, simplicity is important to Skip Saunders and his wife, Marty.
``Simple toys leave more room for the imagination,'' Skip said. ``Kids don't need but just a little bit to get going.''
Marty, 42, agrees. She had a Barbie doll as a girl, but not gobs of accessories.
``We didn't have the car or a thousand Barbies, a thousand shoes or clothes to keep track of,'' she said. ``Each one of us had one. It became like a little world.''
It never took much to please Manteo resident Dora Saunders, either. The 45-year-old (no relation to Skip and Marty) grew up in a home with no running water or electricity. She even remembers a Christmas when she and her mother were forced to live apart because they had no home.
Her daddy never lived with them, and her two brothers lived with relatives. But when Dora looks back at Christmas, she remembers lots of singing and music, and her mother's good cooking.
``Little simple things always pleased me,'' Dora said. ``I never really wanted a whole lot in life.''
When Dora was 8, she woke up Christmas morning to an incredible surprise. Her daddy, a longshoreman out of Virginia, had bought her a ``Christmas doll and whole complete kitchen center - stove, dishes, doll and the baby carriage and things like that,'' Dora said.
``I was the happiest little girl alive. If you got a doll or a carriage or a cook set, you were smokin' back then.''
As a girl, Dora believed in Santa Claus, but today she chooses a different direction for her children, Roderica, 11, and Kizen, 6.
``I tell you, I was so very disappointed and hurt when I found out that it was just Mom and Dad that brought the gifts,'' Dora said. ``I'll never forget it. It's a big letdown that a child has to face.''
So Kizen and Roderica were raised without Santa.
But Marty and Skip went another route, teaching their kids Lindsay, 12, Molly, 8, and Jack, 6, to believe in Santa.
``Because he's about giving,'' said Marty, ``and that's what I like to think Christmas is all about.''
Receiving is also great, Lindsay said, especially receiving her American Doll. But when she thinks back on Christmases past, what stand out are Christmas carols, togetherness and family.
Last year was a good one, Linday said, ``because everybody was together. Families weren't divorced and separated, and we saw a lot of people last year. And we went skiing, and we stayed in a cabin, and I got a really pretty flute case.''
Music is important to both Saunders families. Dora and her children rang in the holiday singing with their church group at the ``Lighting of the Tree'' in Manteo. Kizen sang a solo.
As for Skip, ``most Christmas memories to me are somehow linked to music.'' His mother was a professional swing singer in the '40s. One of her sisters played piano, and the other three sang.
``All the family were there,'' Skip says of a favorite Christmas. ``We all sang Christmas carols. To this day, I've never been so lifted.''
Not all gifts can be held in the hand.
Skip's father was a military man and spent most of Skip's fifth year in Greece and Turkey. The boy was excited about his father's return - eager to see him by Christmas and by his birthday that Dec. 28.
The family went to greet Skip's father at Little Creek Amphibious Base, where the Navy band was playing on the dock. The hull of the Waldo County landing ship separated side to side, and a ramp lowered slowly like a tongue. There, all by himself, was Skip's father.
Gifts have changed a lot over the years. Dora, whose home's interior is adorned in brilliant red to honor the holiday, believes that television has a lot to do with the change in children's attitudes.
``If they couldn't see what was on television, they would accept whatever you went out to the store to buy them,'' she said. ``What you see is what you want. I was always a child that never really wanted a whole lot, and I'm that way today.
``My children are different. You name it, they want it. I wanted one or two things - they want 22 things.''
Some parents put limits on spending. But it's hard to explain to a youngster that Santa only saw fit to bring three gifts when the boy down the block got 15. Santa has his drawbacks.
While Skip and Marty indulge in some of the high-tech electronic presents, they try to counterbalance the Christmas glut by choosing gifts that keep giving all year.
Imagination is key.
Books, Marty says, help you slow down and find peace within. She brings out all the old Christmas books every year and reads to the children. And she likes to buy new books for the kids and pass down books that belonged to her brother.
``You want to keep them in touch with some of those same things, how you got lost in the story,'' she said. ``And your imagination works.''
Molly and Jack's ideas about Christmas are quite different from one another.
``Christmas is the best time of year to me,'' said Molly, cuddling with her mother in a rocking chair by the tree. ``It's when Jesus was born. Christmas Day, I'm gonna say happy birthday.''
Jack's only 6, and his head is swimming with toys and leaving out chocolate chip cookies for Santa.
Skip and Marty know that Jack is still too young to fully understand the art of giving, but they work hard to establish the habit.
This year, all three children were present as Skip, Marty and the Habitat for Humanity crew built a home for a woman in need. The kids drove nails.
``I want them all to know what it feels like,'' Skip said. ``Those are the things that are most important.''
E IGHT YEARS AGO, Skip Saunders' sister gave him a box of toy trains she found in their parents' attic shortly after their mother died.
Remembering a train set he loved as a boy, Skip glanced into the box but saw only some silver cars he didn't recognize. He took the trains home anyway, knowing someday his kids would like them.
The box sat in Skip's Kill Devil Hills attic until last Sunday, when he unpacked the silver trains to set them up for his three children for Christmas. But as he lifted out the unfamiliar toys, he discovered his beloved old black engine and three matching cars.
Memories exploded in his head. He remembered loving those simple cars, setting up wooden spools and barrels and stuffing clothing under oval rugs to make mountains and hills, and playing his heart out.
``This is the first time I've seen them since I was a kid,'' said Skip, 43, adding that the engine and three cars made up the whole set. ``It was a real simple train set.''
Christmas is a complicated holiday, but sometimes it's the simplest things we best remember.
Memories of sharing, family, home-cooked meals and carols shine as the brightest holiday moments.
But Christmas also involves changing times, values, religion or myths.
For some, snow is a must or it just doesn't feel right. Others usher in the holiday on bended knee at midnight Mass. Families may draw names for gifts or buy for everyone - including Cousin Jesse (twice removed), the family dog and the three guinea pigs.
Whatever your style, inclination or situation, Christmas is very personal. It can be celebrated on a street corner, in the corner of your heart, or by cornering the toy market at Macy's.
Like his old train set, simplicity is important to Skip Saunders and his wife, Marty.
``Simple toys leave more room for the imagination,'' Skip said. ``Kids don't need but just a little bit to get going.''
Marty, 42, agrees. She had a Barbie doll as a girl, but not gobs of accessories.
``We didn't have the car or a thousand Barbies, a thousand shoes or clothes to keep track of,'' she said. ``Each one of us had one. It became like a little world.''
It never took much to please Manteo resident Dora Saunders, either. The 45-year-old (no relation to Skip and Marty) grew up in a home with no running water or electricity. She even remembers a Christmas when she and her mother were forced to live apart because they had no home.
Her daddy never lived with them, and her two brothers lived with relatives. But when Dora looks back at Christmas, she remembers lots of singing and music, and her mother's good cooking.
``Little simple things always pleased me,'' Dora said. ``I never really wanted a whole lot in life.''
When Dora was 8, she woke up Christmas morning to an incredible surprise. Her daddy, a longshoreman out of Virginia, had bought her a ``Christmas doll and whole complete kitchen center - stove, dishes, doll and the baby carriage and things like that,'' Dora said.
``I was the happiest little girl alive. If you got a doll or a carriage or a cook set, you were smokin' back then.''
As a girl, Dora believed in Santa Claus, but today she chooses a different direction for her children, Roderica, 11, and Kizen, 6.
``I tell you, I was so very disappointed and hurt when I found out that it was just Mom and Dad that brought the gifts,'' Dora said. ``I'll never forget it. It's a big letdown that a child has to face.''
So Kizen and Roderica were raised without Santa.
But Marty and Skip went another route, teaching their kids Lindsay, 12, Molly, 8, and Jack, 6, to believe in Santa.
``Because he's about giving,'' said Marty, ``and that's what I like to think Christmas is all about.''
Receiving is also great, Lindsay said, especially receiving her American Doll. But when she thinks back on Christmases past, what stand out are Christmas carols, togetherness and family.
Last year was a good one, Lindsay said, ``because everybody was together. Families weren't divorced and separated, and we saw a lot of people last year. And we went skiing, and we stayed in a cabin, and I got a really pretty flute case.''
Music is important to both Saunders families. Dora and her children rang in the holiday singing with their church group at the ``Lighting of the Tree'' in Manteo. Kizen sang a solo.
As for Skip, ``most Christmas memories to me are somehow linked to music.'' His mother was a professional swing singer in the '40s. One of her sisters played piano, and the other three sang.
``All the family were there,'' Skip says of a favorite Christmas. ``We all sang Christmas carols. To this day, I've never been so lifted.''
Not all gifts can be held in the hand.
Skip's father was a military man and spent most of Skip's fifth year in Greece and Turkey. The boy was excited about his father's return - eager to see him by Christmas and by his birthday that Dec. 28.
The family went to greet Skip's father at Little Creek Amphibious Base, where the Navy band was playing on the dock. The hull of the Waldo County landing ship separated side to side, and a ramp lowered slowly like a tongue. There, all by himself, was Skip's father.
Gifts have changed a lot over the years. Dora, whose home's interior is adorned in brilliant red to honor the holiday, believes that television has a lot to do with the change in children's attitudes.
``If they couldn't see what was on television, they would accept whatever you went out to the store to buy them,'' she said. ``What you see is what you want. I was always a child that never really wanted a whole lot, and I'm that way today.
``My children are different. You name it, they want it. I wanted one or two things - they want 22 things.''
Some parents put limits on spending. But it's hard to explain to a youngster that Santa only saw fit to bring three gifts when the boy down the block got 15. Santa has his drawbacks.
While Skip and Marty indulge in some of the high-tech electronic presents, they try to counterbalance the Christmas glut by choosing gifts that keep giving all year.
Imagination is key.
Books, Marty says, help you slow down and find peace within. She brings out all the old Christmas books every year and reads to the children. And she likes to buy new books for the kids and pass down books that belonged to her brother.
``You want to keep them in touch with some of those same things, how you got lost in the story,'' she said. ``And your imagination works.''
Molly and Jack's ideas about Christmas are quite different from one another.
``Christmas is the best time of year to me,'' said Molly, cuddling with her mother in a rocking chair by the tree. ``It's when Jesus was born. Christmas Day, I'm gonna say happy birthday.''
Jack's only 6, and his head is swimming with toys and leaving out chocolate chip cookies for Santa.
Skip and Marty know that Jack is still too young to fully understand the art of giving, but they work hard to establish the habit.
This year, all three children were present as Skip, Marty and the Habitat for Humanity crew built a home for a woman in need. The kids drove nails.
``I want them all to know what it feels like,'' Skip said. ``Those are the things that are most important.'' ILLUSTRATION: [Cover, Color photo]
CHRISTMAS DREAMS, CHRISTMAS MEMORIES, LOOKING BACK: Residents
reminisce on meanigful holidays past.
Staff photo by DREW C. WILSON
Jack Saunders, 6, shows off a train car that once belonged to his
father, right, Skip Saunders. Jack's mom, Marty, is on his left.
Lindsay Saunders, 12, relaxes on the floor while the rest of the
family sets up the train set.
Skip Saunders, right, checks a train car before placing it on the
track assembled with son, Jack, left to right, wife Marty, and
daughter Molly.
Saunders' sister gave him a box of toy trains he owned as a child
that she found in their parents' attic. The train set in his attic
until Dec. 17, when he unpacked the silver trains to set them up for
his three children for Christmas.
Staff photos by
DREW C. WILSON
by CNB