JOY ALONG THE WAY: SECOND CHILDHOOD CHRISTMAS

Christmas, they sometimes say, is for childhood. What about second childhood?

I wondered if there was a dictionary definition for second childhood. To my surprise, there is. Well, in a way. It says, "See dotage; senility." Somewhat chilled, I turned to those definitions, as if I didn't already know. Under dotage the lexicon described it as "second childhood; senility." Passing the buck, I thought. But under senility the definition gets a little harsher: "Mental and physical deterioration with old age."

"What do they know?" I pouted. I define second childhood as a re-visit to the things one liked to do as a child. It calls up old pleasant memories and puts one in a good, youthful mood.

Near the Christmas season, our long-ago weekly newspaper began to decorate their ads with little black and white Christmas scenes -- Santa on the rooftop, carolers under a street lamp, horse-drawn sleighs pulling riders through the snowy countryside.

Although we had no notion of buying what was being advertised, my sisters and I delighted in the little holiday scenes and spent so many pleasant hours coloring them with our Crayolas.

Usually this was done at the kitchen/dining table. There would be the good aroma of hot cocoa being readied on the stove and the cedary fragrance of the Christmas tree which we often erected in the big kitchen where most of our winter living took place.

So, when the Town Plaza Merchants came out with their full page contest drawings for children under six to enter, I was in Second Childhood Fields of Delight.

To rationalize my childish efforts and lift them out of the mental deterioration classification where the dictionary dumped them, I told myself I'd color these to show some of my little friends how they might do it.

The announcement said one could use anything for finishing the black and white pictures--crayons, watercolors, bits of lace and ribbons, etc. I had all these things plus little and big sequins, tiny pearl ropes, gold stars, etc.

I put a pan of cocoa on the stove to slowly heat, lit the potpourri candle to set the simmering pot to send out cedary vapors, got all my little bits and pieces of saved trimmings and began.

It was such a delightful hour. Not once did I think of the burglars that cowardly choose second childhood women to rob, the conditions in Bosnia and Zaire, the Congressional investigations, the special card I had yet to purchase for that special someone.

I chose the Christmas tree to color, etc. After it was water colored green, with the help of the glue gun (Elmer's glue will do for young fingers), on went the little and big sequins for baubles, strings of tiny pearls for the scalloped garland.

The printed tree had no candles, but some of the many stickers we receive this time of year had such tiny candles. Although tedious for a second childhood person to cut out, they were pre-glued and went on handily. A gold star, also pre-glued, went on the top of the tree, of course.

The years fell away as I mounted the tree on white cardboard and glued tinsel all around the edges.

It was a Hallmark production, suitable to send to that special person, I hadn't yet purchased one for -- my little granddaughter Lauren, aged 18!

Thanks Town Plaza. Being age-disadvantaged as far as entering the contest, I'll forget the prize of Santa Dollars. But, little friends, take note. Although it is too late for this year's contest, there'll be another year, another contest.

REJOICE!

~Jean Bell Mosley is an author and longtime resident of Cape Girardeau.