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Maria and Me
It was Christmas morning. I must have been about 9-years-old. I remember Santa Claus bringing me everything I wanted. Well, almost everything I wanted. There were more toys under our Christmas tree than any two children could have played with! And I was an only child. (My sister didn't come along for another three years.) I was so happy. I remember telling my mom and dad how much I loved Santa. After all, he brought me everything I asked for. Everything, of course, but that one basketball game. You would think I said, "gentlemen start your engines!" My mom jumped from the couch and walked quickly to my parent's bedroom. She returned in a second with another beautifully wrapped present. Mom said something about why Santa left the gift there rather than under the tree. Of course, whatever it was she said, I was convinced. I was 9. So, I opened the gift. It was that one game I didn't get, the basketball game.
Consider yourself introduced to Maria Fama, my mom and Madeline's daughter. If I had a need that wasn't met when I grew up, I certainly don't remember it.
Maria was the sure thing, the glue, the one in a million.