One Winter Weekend

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

B lake bantered with the street vendor a little. He had that effect on people; able to talk to them like they were old friends.

We walked until we came upon the Saks building.

“Wait, hold on,” he said as he put one hand over my eyes and one arm around my back to guide me.

This was adorable. He really wanted me to get the full experience. I slowly shuffled my feet as he positioned me in front of the window, then he took his hand away from my eyes and said: “Okay, open your eyes.”

I did. It took me a few seconds to process what I was seeing. In the first window was the setting of a Victorian living room, or parlour, as they must have called it then.

There was a Christmas tree in the corner of it and on the wall a sign that read, “Twas the Night Before Christmas.”

Blake stood beside me and said. “It’s a story, each window is a scene from the story.”

My eyes watered over. This was breathtaking.

I stepped closer, completely hypnotised by it.

In the centre of the parlour was a fireplace, and ‘stockings hung by the chimney with care.’

The stockings must have been true vintage pieces, with red and green patterns, not the commercial Christmas ones you get now, but actual socks.

The green garland above the fireplace was simple and thin, but also vintage in appearance. A tree was decorated with handmade ornaments, each different from the other and made of wood or paper.

There were a few glass baubles, but not many, as it would have been a luxury to have those during that period.

A small toy train and tracks went around the bottom of the tree skirt while an old wooden vintage train set circled intricately wrapped presents with red, green, and gold paper and velvet ribbon.

There were only a few presents, maybe five in total. Large winged-back chairs were set before the fireplace with a cosy blanket throw across the back.

A small table near the chairs had an old book on it, Twas The Night Before Christmas .

I looked at Blake, and smiled, “It’s the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he said. “Come on, let’s see the whole story.”

“Wait,” I said.

He stopped and looked back at me.

“Thank you, Blake. For all of this.”

“It’s my pleasure.” He put his elbow out for me again and I encircled my arm in his, took a sip of my creamy hot chocolate and continued on.

The next window was the children’s bedroom. They were snug in their beds and wore adorable night clothes in a wrought iron bed.

The requisite sugar plum fairies hung from the ceiling, and sprigs of holly from the corners.

The next window had a white powdered rooftop with smokey chimneys, and featuring the man himself.

There was a large sled being driven by Santa Claus, as it landed on the roof. He wore the iconic Victorian dark maroon suit, not the bright red and white one, common today.

He had rosy cheeks and a thick white beard and next to him was a large velvet bag full of intricately wrapped gifts. The reindeer were so lifelike and each one wore jingle bells.

The whole thing was pure Christmas magic.

The store really went out of its way to make this classic festive story come to life, and I was grateful to have the opportunity to see it.

“So, is it all you hoped for so far?” Blake queried.

“It’s more than that. I’ve heard about this kind of thing and have seen pictures, but experiencing it in person doesn’t compare.”

“I’d love to show you more Christmassy stuff while you are in town. I wish we could keep today going for longer, but I really do have to get back to my project. Would you allow me to walk you home?”

I tried not to sound disappointed that our festive whistle-stop tour was now coming to an end.