Every December, my mother sets about decorating the house, making it look like something from a Hallmark Christmas special. It's something I look forward to when I'm home over the holidays. One of the more prevalent decorations are the nutcrackers that adorn the house. The unintentional collection comes with a story that started back in the early nineties.
It was a Christmas party at Fraser Road United Church in Gander, where we lived at the time. Gifts had been brought for a white elephant gift exchange. Attendees would pick a gift, open it, but be at the mercy of the next person, who could either take the opened gift or choose their own. My mother had opened a set of nutcracker candle holders. She was delighted because for some reason I had become interested in them that season. She showed them around and explained how much I would enjoy them. Her enjoyment was short-lived however, as the next person decided they would take the candle holders for themselves. My mother was not pleased. The following morning, the gentleman in question had delivered the candle holders to my dad's office with instructions for them to be placed under the tree for Christmas. This of course was unbeknownst to my mother, who regaled the story of the gift that should have been to my father.
Christmas morning there was joy all around! The candle holders were in my mother's hands again and dad was able to tell her how they got there. It's unknown whether the plan all along had been to give them back, or if the man simply saw how much mom liked them. In either case it became a family Christmas story. The following years saw other anonymous gag gifts appearing on our steps. Late one Christmas Eve mom thought she heard someone at the door. Looking out, she caught a glimpse of someone going around the corner of the house. She was now sure of the source of the gifts and began to retaliate. Using a number of people and in a number of ways the man began to get things attached to his door. He knew, and was known by all of Gander, but it bothered him to no end that he couldn't figure out who was pranking him. It was only when we moved in 1998 that mom confessed that it has been her.
December arrived in our new town, and as the decorations were put up, a knock came at the door. A lady whom we didn't know simply passed in a package, said it was for us, wished us Merry Christmas and was on her way. It was placed under the tree awaiting Christmas morning. As we opened our presents on the 25th, the mystery box was opened to reveal a nutcracker. The first of what would become many. Every year, for the thirteen years we lived in Harbour Grace, a nutcracker was delivered.
By now, there was a small army around the fireplace each Christmas. We never received the same nutcracker twice. Each was unique in some way, from the traditional soldiers to skiers, a mouse king and even a clockmaker. Some years friends and family would add to the ranks with special nutcrackers we found but we ultimately wondered what the mystery nutcracker would be. It quickly became evident to my parents who was sending these nutcrackers and there remained a silent acknowledgement between them. Cards of thanks were sent, and direct confrontations were always met with an air of innocence and surprise as the man denied any involvement.
As the years went by, the gentleman fell ill. Despite this, the nutcrackers marched on, arriving each year. In the gentleman's final year my father went to visit him during the summer. During the visit he asked his sister to fetch a parcel. "I won't be around at Christmas so make sure your wife gets this," he said. As he had predicted he was gone before Christmas, and my parents attended his funeral.
Made of metal, covered in sequins and some five feet tall, it was his last gift to us. My mother, unsuspecting, opened it Christmas morning. There was a mixture of laughter and tears as we remembered him and the unique place he held in our family's life. It was the culmination of over a decade of kindness and playfulness from a man whom we all came to know as Santa Roy.
Each year as the decorations come out, the nutcracker army forms up. The collection now numbering almost fifty in some shape or form, is too large for any one room. The varied faces and designs are just as part of Christmas for us as anything else, and for that we have a man from Gander to thank.
Submitted By: Matthew Small
