Christmas Shopping at Grant's Market
History and nostalgia are definitely not the same art, but they fit together snugly enough to paint a picture in a lot of cases. Take the case of Ron and Ruth Grant and their store on East High Street. For several years, Christmas and Christmas trees in Union City meant my grandchildren and picking out a live Christmas tree at Grant’s Market.
Choosing the tree was a project in itself since Shawn and Joey had radically different ideas about the form and function of a Christmas tree. Shawn wanted a skinny tree and Joey wanted a fat tree. I wanted to get the argument over with so we could get the tree home and decorate it.
“A skinny tree is the best because you can make it fat with ornaments and candy,” Shawn argued.
“A fat tree is the best because you can take things off of it to make it skinny,” Joey argued back.
I sighed and tromped up and down the row of trees looking for a middle sized one that could be adjusted either way. Finally, I spotted a candidate and hauled the boys over for a verdict. After ten more minutes of discussion, we decided that the middle sized tree was the one and we went inside to pay for it. That proved to be another chore. Joey wanted to use his money and Shawn wanted to use his money. Since their collective money amounted to $1.50, we wasted more energy on the presentation and settling of the argument, but finally I paid for the tree. Ron, always the kind gentleman, arranged to drop the tree off at my apartment and the boys and I walked the block to my apartment from Grant’s store to check out the state of the Christmas tree ornaments.
The state of the Christmas tree ornaments provoked another two hours of discussion. Shawn liked shiny, colorful lights and angels so he picked all of the glittery lights from the bag that I had stashed under the couch. Joey liked paper chains and tinsel and pine cones which took a little more work. I faced the delicate diplomatic task of combining different ornaments on one tree with four fighting hands guiding them. After I put the angel on top, I managed to convince the boys that two ornaments from Shawn, two from Joey, etc. and on and on was the way to decorate the tree.
When we finished, the Christmas tree from Grant’s Market still needed something.
“Tinsel!” Joey hollered. “Let’s go buy some tinsel.”
Practical Shawn said right away, “No, we can’t do that. Zeke and Blue Eyes (the cats) will eat the tinsel and die.”
“We can use just a little bit of tinsel,” Joey said. “Please, Grandma.”
“You just want to kill the cats,” Shawn hollered.
The fight was escalating, so I decided to quit arbitrating and intervene.“I know what, let’s go back to Grant’s and buy some candy canes,” I said.
We trudged back down the hill to Grants to buy some candy canes. I secretly fingered the money in my pocket. I didn’t have too much left after the buying the tree and the ornaments. I hoped I would have enough.
Of course Shawn and Joey each chose a big box of candy canes and I was short of the cash needed to pay for them. I stood there trying to come up with a quick way of getting around the problem and making a graceful exit. Ron Grant took charge. “Merry Christmas,” he said, handing the boys the candy canes. He ignored the tears in my eyes and shooed us out of the store with another hearty “Merry Christmas.”
After the boys went home, I did some solo Christmas shopping at Grants. Ron made flower boxes, coat trees, and wooden holders for VCRs and DVDs and they made practical and useful gifts. I sent several of his wood creations to friends and relatives in different states and I am still enjoying some that I kept for myself. I used to enjoy walking down the hill to Grants to see what he had made next. Even years later, I see two boys and their grandmother pacing up and down rows of evergreen trees picking out the perfect Christmas tree at Grant’s Market.
Choosing the tree was a project in itself since Shawn and Joey had radically different ideas about the form and function of a Christmas tree. Shawn wanted a skinny tree and Joey wanted a fat tree. I wanted to get the argument over with so we could get the tree home and decorate it.
“A skinny tree is the best because you can make it fat with ornaments and candy,” Shawn argued.
“A fat tree is the best because you can take things off of it to make it skinny,” Joey argued back.
I sighed and tromped up and down the row of trees looking for a middle sized one that could be adjusted either way. Finally, I spotted a candidate and hauled the boys over for a verdict. After ten more minutes of discussion, we decided that the middle sized tree was the one and we went inside to pay for it. That proved to be another chore. Joey wanted to use his money and Shawn wanted to use his money. Since their collective money amounted to $1.50, we wasted more energy on the presentation and settling of the argument, but finally I paid for the tree. Ron, always the kind gentleman, arranged to drop the tree off at my apartment and the boys and I walked the block to my apartment from Grant’s store to check out the state of the Christmas tree ornaments.
The state of the Christmas tree ornaments provoked another two hours of discussion. Shawn liked shiny, colorful lights and angels so he picked all of the glittery lights from the bag that I had stashed under the couch. Joey liked paper chains and tinsel and pine cones which took a little more work. I faced the delicate diplomatic task of combining different ornaments on one tree with four fighting hands guiding them. After I put the angel on top, I managed to convince the boys that two ornaments from Shawn, two from Joey, etc. and on and on was the way to decorate the tree.
When we finished, the Christmas tree from Grant’s Market still needed something.
“Tinsel!” Joey hollered. “Let’s go buy some tinsel.”
Practical Shawn said right away, “No, we can’t do that. Zeke and Blue Eyes (the cats) will eat the tinsel and die.”
“We can use just a little bit of tinsel,” Joey said. “Please, Grandma.”
“You just want to kill the cats,” Shawn hollered.
The fight was escalating, so I decided to quit arbitrating and intervene.“I know what, let’s go back to Grant’s and buy some candy canes,” I said.
We trudged back down the hill to Grants to buy some candy canes. I secretly fingered the money in my pocket. I didn’t have too much left after the buying the tree and the ornaments. I hoped I would have enough.
Of course Shawn and Joey each chose a big box of candy canes and I was short of the cash needed to pay for them. I stood there trying to come up with a quick way of getting around the problem and making a graceful exit. Ron Grant took charge. “Merry Christmas,” he said, handing the boys the candy canes. He ignored the tears in my eyes and shooed us out of the store with another hearty “Merry Christmas.”
After the boys went home, I did some solo Christmas shopping at Grants. Ron made flower boxes, coat trees, and wooden holders for VCRs and DVDs and they made practical and useful gifts. I sent several of his wood creations to friends and relatives in different states and I am still enjoying some that I kept for myself. I used to enjoy walking down the hill to Grants to see what he had made next. Even years later, I see two boys and their grandmother pacing up and down rows of evergreen trees picking out the perfect Christmas tree at Grant’s Market.