It was Christmas Eve afternoon when the little kids complained of feeling feverish and achy. My mother and I hung the last of the tinsel on the tree and plugged in the lights, which didn’t light up, so I had to spend an hour screwing and unscrewing bulbs to find the bad apple, and when I got the tree lit up and stood back to admire it, I could hear little feet in the upstairs hall making a run for the bathroom.

I went to my room and wrote that I felt strangely listless and depressed in the midst of the joyous season. And then my mother shouted that I had left the lights plugged in. She was beside herself. She had three sick children and dozens of gifts to wrap and supper to make and Aunt Marie was coming.

Aunt Marie was actually an unmarried cousin of my father’s, and she was free for Christmas for the simple reason that everyone avoided inviting her. Every year, the Sunday before Christmas, she would corner someone after church and say, in a choked voice, “I guess I’ll have to go to a cafeteria for Christmas.” Some relatives would tell Aunt Marie that they had heard that cafeterias served delicious food and that she should have a wonderful time, but Mother had a soft heart, and so we got Aunt Marie.

Mother bought her a box of cream-filled chocolates for a gift, and wrapped it in white tissue paper and tied it with a red ribbon and curled the bow.

When Aunt Marie arrived for supper, the little kids were in their beds upstairs, whimpering. Two had made the trip to the toilet, and one was about to, and the two were beginning to realize that one trip might not be enough to do the job. It was a sad scene up there. Mother sent me upstairs with 7-Up and toast, and the look of misery in the little tykes’ eyes was quite touching. “Will Santa still come?” one of them asked in a tiny trembly voice.

“I frankly doubt it,” I said. “I don’t see how you can expect Santa to come and get your germs and spread them to every other boy and girl on this planet. Do you? No, of course not.” They burst into heart-wrenching sobs. I closed the door behind me.