Christmas at the Melton's

Margo, age 5 (1950)

Christmases in the Melton household were always extravagant affairs.  One holiday I remember hearing about occurred when I was four.   The 10-foot Christmas tree in the bay window of the music room was decorated within an inch of its life and had an uncountable number of gorgeously wrapped gifts under it—for all of us—from friends, family, fans and colleagues.  Always there were half a dozen or so packages from the Sisters-of-this or the Convent-of-that—places where my father had done free concerts over the years.  These packages usually contained some beautifully handmade item for me—a crocheted sweater, a toy, or doll dressed in hand-sewn clothes.  I was getting more and more tired and cranky as the day progressed, overwhelmed by the sheer number of gifts.  But when my mother suggested a nap, a little rest, I cried: "Oh, just one more nun-please!"  (P.S. I still have the dolls in the picture, but I recently sold the Steiff horse (partially hidden behind me) to an antiques dealer.  Hard to think of my toys as antiques!)