It's the memory of past struggle that keeps me grounded – not that I have reached any degree of wealth or fame or ever will. No regrets, life has been good to me. Not in terms of financial gain, but personal relationships. Thank God for every one.

The year was 1967, it was my second year away from home. My brother and his new wife had moved to Toronto shortly after being married at home in Newfoundland. I was still working my first job which paid a salary of $65.00 a week minus the usual deductions. I know that was probably worth more then than it is now, but it still wasn’t very much. But I was a seventeen year old kid, three thousand miles from home, making his own way in life. Some would say that sounds a little crazy. Perhaps it was. But it did seem good at the time.

We had recently moved into our second home away from home. It was much better than the first one. No swarms of mice or roaches, and the landlord always paid the light bill on time so we were never left in the dark. My brother was a little more familiar with the city and the transit system and could get to work on his own using the bus and subway system. He was bringing home a paycheck every week that was much better than mine cause he worked construction.

Our flat was on the third floor of this big house on the corner of Keele Street and Humberside Avenue. At first we shared the bathroom on the second floor with a couple of ‘flower children’. Until one weekend they decided to paint the bathroom – tub and all – in several different colours which suited their carefree lifestyle. My sister-in-law was pregnant at the time, so you can see this was very inconvenient for us. The landlord had no idea they were doing this until we complained to him. The flower children weren’t happy when they were told to stop. They were especially not happy with us, but my sister-in-law was babysitting the landlord’s little boy during the week. So he decided to build a bathroom on the third floor for us and jack up the rent as well, of course. But it was much better for us not having to climb up and down a flight of stairs only to find the bathroom occupied.

My sister-in-law had a cousin who lived in Kitchener who would visit now and then, and this cousin and her husband invited my brother and his wife to join them for Christmas. We still didn’t have much money but were able to forego our steady diet of pancakes twice a day (three times a day on weekends) for a more regular and diverse menu. But, not a lot of money to spend on Christmas gifts or decorations or even a tree. It was their first Christmas away from home, my second.

So while my brother and his wife were gone I decided to do something to brighten up the place for Christmas. I didn’t really have any money, but I managed to buy the last artificial tree the Woolworths store on Dundas Street had left. It wasn’t green, unfortunately, it was silver in colour. All the green ones were sold out, likewise all the coloured Christmas lights. So I had to settle for the silver tree, whose branches weren’t very full, and a string of white Christmas lights.

Anyway, I brought home the tree and spent some time putting it together. It came in pieces in a box. There were no decorations, no presents under it, but it was a Christmas tree and we were far from home and the people we loved. I tried to make the best of it, after all Christmas is a hard time to be away from home, especially when it’s your first time like it was for my brother and his wife. Looking back, I know it was only one of many for me, even after I myself was married and had children of my own.

Before my brother and his wife returned, I plugged in the lights, closed the door, and said nothing when they walked in the flat. Eventually, my sister-in-law when into the living room for something and came out with tears in her eyes. In my seventy-plus years, there are many Christmases in my memories and many Christmas trees. Some I cut down myself, some I bought, some I gathered with my wife and children. Many I have forgotten, but not that silver Christmas tree so long ago.

Cyril Griffin
New Perlican, NL