I suppose everyone has a particular childhood Christmas that stands out more than any other. For me, it was the year that the Burlington factory closed down. Small child as I was, the events of that Christmas will live forever in my heart.

My father, who had been employed at Burlington, never, let us know that we were having financial difficulties. We knew only that our daddy, who usually worked long, difficult hours, was now home more than we had ever remembered.

Mama, a homemaker, now sought work in the local textile mills, but jobs were scarce. Therefore, daddy’s unemployment check would now be our family’s only source of income. I don’t know for sure how they managed, but some how they did. They made sure they scraped together enough money to buy each of us a Barbie doll. For the rest of our presents, they would rely on their talents, using waste materials they already had.

While dark, rough hands sawed, hammered and painted, flexible fingers fed dress after dress after dress into the sewing machine. Barbie-sized clothes for every imaginable occasion pushed forward from the old machine. Where we were while all of this was taking place, I have no idea. But somehow my parents found time to pour themselves into our gifts, and the excitement of Christmas was once again born for the entire family.

That Christmas Eve, the sun was just setting over the distant horizon when I heard the roar of an unexpected motor in the driveway. Looking outside, I could hardly believe my eyes. Aunt Charlene and Uncle Buck had driven all the way from Georgia to surprise us. Packed tightly in their car, as though no air was needed, sat my three cousins. I also couldn’t help but notice many gifts for all of us, all neatly packaged and tied with beautiful bows. They had known that it would be a difficult Christmas, and they had come to help. The next morning we awoke to more gifts than I ever could have imagined — mountains of gifts among all that excitement and laughter.

Daddy decided not to give us his gifts.

They were wooden boxes that can be used as a house to store a Barbie doll.

At Piedmont School, everyone wanted to be on the soccer team. Laura had dreamed of earning glory for the Falcons ever since she had witnessed her older brother scoring the winning goal. On the day she joined the team, she felt like she could fly.

Unfortunately, her joy did not last long. She spent most of the matches on the bench. Walking to the car after the last game, Laura’s mother asked if she was feeling fine. Laura kept quiet and tried to smile at her mother. Having spent yet another game as a reserve, Laura had not even broken a sweat. Laura also joked that she would have baked in the hot sun if she had played. Her mother assured her that she would have another chance to play. She also cheered Laura on. Laura could only shake her head as she climbed into the seat, back hunched and face down.

A few days later, Laura’s mother found she sprawled on the couch, watching music videos on her phone, so she tried asking Laura to watch soccer videos instead. Laura looked at her mother blankly, rolling her eyes. “They won’t help me and I can’t get better by myself,” Laura said.

Sighing, her mother sank down on the couch. “Laura, for every lock, there is a key. We just have to find it. What if I film you practising to help you find ways to improve?”

“But the season’s over, Mum. No more practice, remember?” Laura said. Her mother looked at her resolutely and insisted that the best players keep practising even when the season is over. Laura protested, “But to practise plays, I would need at least one other person to join me! It is difficult to do that alone.”

Laura’s mother patted her and said, “We’ll find that key too, but we have to start somewhere.” While Laura’s mother was searching her wallet for her gold key, she smiled gently at Laura. She gave Laura an assuring nod before passing her the key. “This key is a reminder for you to be strong and not give up. Let’s build something tomorrow.” Laura’s mother said.

The next day, Laura and her mother built a goal and made a training plan.

One evening, Dequan, a boy from Laura’s school and some other children saw Laura going about her routine and asked her what she was doing.

One Thursday in April, I was awakened by the noise of my parents talking and making breakfast. My old brother and sister were running around, trying to put their things together for school.

I put on the new skirt I had bought over the weekend while thinking about how I was going to make my day perfect. Then my mom offered to walk me to school instead of my dad driving me. She said she wanted to walk for exercise, so I thought it would be fine. Although my dad said he wanted to drive me, my mom and I both agreed to walk.

As we were walking down the hill to my school, we chatted about interesting things in my wonderful school life, our family’s next vacation, and so on. We felt so relaxed and excited. Holding hands, we crossed the crosswalk to get to my school, and that was when a bad thing happened. A car lost control and came fast towards us. Just at that moment, my mom tried to save me using all of her strength. She made it. She pushed me out of the way.

But when I turned around, I saw my mom flying through the air. For me, everything was in slow motion. Finally , my mom hit her head , and it started to bleed. I shouted and cried uncontrollably while some people called my dad and the police. Soon, I saw my dad rushing down the street in his car with the most scared look on his face.

He and I followed the ambulance to the hospital. While we waited in the waiting room, I was clear that my happy family suddenly had a terrible change. I felt like this couldn’t be happening to me. I was shocked, frightened, hopeless and helpless. I was so worried about my mom. I just hoped she could survive the accident. When the nurse finally came to us, I was scared of what I was going to see.

But I ran and hugged my mom.

Several weeks later, the doctor said my mom could go home.