Glendale Christmas Magic

Glendale, where I worked for eight years, is one square mile of poverty in the middle of a very affluent business community. As the Glendale social worker, I was often given free tickets to plays and events that families would otherwise never be able to afford.

In December, 1992, thanks to money from the PTO, I took five, first-grade girls to see Disney On Ice. It was pure magic.

I wanted to pick up Tanya first. I was not exactly in the Christmas spirit and I was certain Tanya wouldn’t be ready when I got to her apartment. Her mother had no phone, so all of our communication had been by notes pinned to the front of Tanya’s dress. Tanya had head lice in remission. She missed school at least twice a week because no one could ever find her shoes in time for her to catch the bus. Not a good omen!

As I rang the buzzer, Tanya came running out to meet me dressed like a little princess in cowboy boots. She wore a long, burgundy dress with a plunging neckline and a tiny gold necklace. Her hair was clean and curled. Her mother had put lipstick and eye-shadow on her. She looked beautiful, if a little precocious.

Tanya, in her burgundy dress and matching lipstick, was truly the spirit of Christmas. Her joy was contagious. I parked my car and led the five girls inside to find our seats. The girls giggled and held hands as we climbed to the top of McNichols basketball arena, which had been converted into a full-court ice rink. When Deanna, Tanya’s friend from the next apartment, lost her piece of candy behind her seat, Tanya immediately offered her candy to Deanna. 

The show was “Disney’s Fantasy on Ice” and featured all the characters the girls already knew ~ Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, Snow White and Cinderella.  Their eyes never left the stage. 

Later, when Deanna, who has one leg two inches shorter than the other, panicked going downstairs. Tanya spontaneously took Deanna’s hand and led her down the steep steps. It was a lovely moment, right out of Charles Dickens. 

After that success, I could hardly wait to take nine fifth-grade girls to see The Nutcracker, with two other chaperones. The tickets were donated by the women who worked at Shotgun Willies, the strip club located in the heart of Glendale.

The Nutcracker was the biggest holiday event of the season, a real ballet in a beautiful downtown theater. The other chaperones and I talked to the girls about The Nutcracker for three weeks. We listened to the music and read the story. We talked about ballet, and getting dressed up, and being on our best behavior. 

It was a cold December night when arrived at the theater. The girls were gorgeous, with fancy dresses and just a touch of glitter in their hair and makeup on their faces. The girls were awestruck when they saw the downtown Christmas lights and the glamour inside the huge theater. Their eyes glowed at the sight of  sparkling chandeliers that led us to our seats in the balcony. We took our seats and waited for the ballet to begin.

The first act went by all too quickly. The music was lovely. When the curtain fell at intermission, I was eager to hear the reactions of the girls. The magic was lost, however, when Monique stood up in her red velvet dress, made a face and loudly proclaimed, “Somebody farted!”