My husband Bob and I lived in DeLand, Fla., off and on for a total of about six years.
In December 1981, it felt so strange, and yet so sweet and neat, to be driving in 75-degree weather and attending a Telephone Pioneer Christmas party in Daytona Beach, with no worries of a sudden impending snow storm; and later, putting up Christmas decorations on Pear Tree Lane in warmth and sunshine.
In subsequent years, New Year's Eves were celebrated in DeLand's Eastbrook Development, outdoors, with friendly neighbors from all over the country and with whom we still keep in touch, to this day.
Among our fondest Florida remembrances are sunny Christmas parades in downtown DeLand; then, later in the evening, a breathtaking parade of brilliantly decorated boats on St. John's River.
In the grand scheme of things, our time in DeLand (home of Stetson University, by the way) was much too brief; but that memorable experience enriched and improved our life.
Our local DeLand newspaper once published a poem that we would like to dedicate to everyone who has ever enjoyed the night before Christmas in sunny Florida:
"Santa in Florida"
(Unknown author)
'Twas the night before Christmas
and all through the town,
no noses were frozen,
no snow fluttered down.
No children in flannels
were tucked into bed,
they all wore their
shorty pajamas instead.
To find wreaths of holly
was not very hard,
for holly wreaths grew
in every back yard.
In front of the houses
were Daddies and Moms,
adorning the crotons
and coconut palms.
The slumbering kiddies
were dreaming with glee,
that they would find
water-skis under the tree.
They all knew that Santa
was well on his way,
in a red Thunderbird
instead of a sleigh.
He whizzed up the highway
and zoomed up the roads,
in a snappy convertible
peddling his loads.
As he jumped from the car,
he gave a deep chuckle,
he was dressed in Bermudas
with a cypress wood buckle.
There weren't any chimneys,
but that caused no gloom,
For Santa came in
through the Florida room.
He stopped at each house,
stayed only a minute,
as he emptied his bag
of toys that were in it.
Before he departed
he treated himself,
to a glass of papaya juice
left on the shelf.
Leaped into the car
and put it in gear,
and drove over our bridges
singing with cheer.
But we heard him exclaim
as he went on his way,
"Merry Christmas, sunny Florida,
wish I could stay."
Lorraine Bailey
Sheridan
