I still live in the same town that I grew up in. It was anchored by textile mills for many years. When the mills started closing, the town began to take on a new personality. There were many changes taking place, in the neighborhoods and businesses. One thing that has never changed is our Christmas parade. I can remember being a little girl and looking forward to the Tuesday that we would line the streets, waiting for the police cars to slowly make their way down, sirens blaring loud. My mother worked at one of the mills along the parade route so we would park in their parking lot. Her shift ended at 3:00, she would come home and pick me up and we would head back downtown. She would always buy me a special treat of little doughnuts from the mill store (which was called something else, but that is a story for another day) and we would walk to the spot where we stood every year. For several years after my mom retired and the mill had shut down, we still stood in the same location as we previously had.
We would laugh at the clowns and were amazed at the baton twirlers. We thought the metallic streamers on the floats were so shiny and we watched the dance classes as they moved and clapped along with the music. We watched as the church vans pulled their floats with the live nativity scenes and a baby doll laying in the hay in the manger.
The parade is still on Tuesday and is started by the local police, their sirens blaring loud. The high school bands still play Christmas carols and the homecoming queens still wave from the convertible cars. The Boy Scouts still march and Santa is at the end, wishing everyone a 'Merry Christmas'.
And I still think about the little coconut donuts that my mom bought for me and the excitement I felt on the Tuesday that the parade was held.
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