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Hope Ramsay’s Christmas Memories

When I think about Christmastime memories, I don’t think about presents I may have gotten that either thrilled or disappointed. I think about Christmas carols and trimming the tree and our big family dinner on Christmas Eve.

My parents didn’t put all that much emphasis on presents. For one thing, my parents were of mixed religious backgrounds. Mom was Christian and Pop was Jewish, and we kids were raised as Unitarians. For another, my mother grew up on a farm in South Carolina during the Depression, so her idea of Christmas gifts was very different than what folks think about today. We had a secular Christmas in our house but the emphasis wasn’t on a big pile of gifts.

Aunt Annie would always give me a box of handmade dresses, many of them hand-smocked. She was quite a seamstress, and I loved the dresses she made for me. I wore them all through grade school.

When I was older, my father would give me records or books he thought I should read. And books were a favorite gift since I was a bookworm.

I think each of my brothers and I got a bicycle when we turned twelve or thirteen. But in those days a bike was almost required transportation because there wasn’t bus service to the Junior High and my mom didn’t chauffer us around the way we chauffeured our kids these days.

I also got a stocking every year from Santa. It would always have a package of thank you notes, a box of Whitman’s chocolates, and Lillian Vernon pencils with my name on each one.

But the best thing about my stocking was the doll. There was always a doll peeking out of the top. Those dolls ran the gamut from inexpensive dime store dolls that my aunt dressed to Ginny dolls, which are much like Madam Alexander dolls. I even got a Betsy McCall doll in my sock one year.

But by far the coolest doll I ever got for Christmas was the Barbie Santa put in my stocking in 1959. I still have her. She’s in pretty good shape, too, considering how much I played with her. I hate to think how much that original Barbie is worth these days.

And you know what? Santa still puts dolls in my stocking every year. I’ve had to dedicate my small guest room as “the doll room.” It’s filled with shelves and shelves of dolls I’ve gotten as Christmas gifts over the years.

After all these Christmases I can say without equivocation that I’ve never, ever been disappointed in a doll.

Book Description

Release Date: September 25, 2012 | Series: Last Chance

Dear Reader,
I’ve been wishing for a miracle for my oldest boy, Stone, and this Christmas my prayers might just be answered!

Her name is Lark, and she’s here in Last Chance, looking into her father’s past-and stirring up a whole mess of trouble without meaning to. As the chief of police, Stone sure has his hands full trying to keep up with her. Ever since his wife died, Stone’s put everything into raising his daughters and dodging the Christ Church Ladies’ Auxiliary matchmakers. And it’s clear Lark has been through some trouble and could use a place to finally call home. I only hope Stone can let go of the past soon enough to keep her . . .Goodness, I need to stop talking and finish up Jane’s highlights so we can make the town tree-lighting. You come back by because the Cut ‘n’ Curl’s got hot rollers, free coffee, fresh-baked Christmas cookies-and the best gossip in town.

See you real soon,
Ruby Rhodes

About the Author

Hope Ramsay grew up on the North Shore of Long Island, but every summer Momma would pack her off under the care of Aunt Annie to go visiting with relatives in the midlands of South Carolina. Her extended family includes its share of colorful aunts and uncles, as well as cousins by the dozens, who provide the fodder for the characters you’ll find in Last Chance, South Carolina. She’s a two-time finalist in the Golden Heart and is married to a good ol’ Georgia boy who resembles every single one of her heroes. She lives in Fairfax, Virginia, where you can often find her on the back deck, picking on her thirty-five-year-old Martin guitar.

You can learn more at:
HopeRamsay.com
Facebook, www.facebook.com/Hope.Ramsay
Twitter, @HopeRamsay.

Book Description

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