It was December 1957, I was 12 years old when I was invited to a Holiday Dance (to be held after Christmas but before New Years).

My friend, Paul … a short fella with blonde hair and blue eyes (I, too was short but with brown hair and eyes) … asked me to be his date. I was so excited. It was a tough time for my family as my Dad had become unemployed.

We lived mostly on Nana’s stewed tomatoes and bologna…and since the well went dry, Dad hauled water from Nana. What on earth could I wear to this dance? My kid sister and brothers and I had “necessary” clothing — mostly handed down from cousins.

When talking to Mom about this dilemma she said she would make one of her fancier dresses down to size for me. Though I’d never seen any fancy dress I surely believed in her as she was an excellent seamstress and might even crochet or knit the gown. Mom went to work in her locked sewing room…and I would hear her pedal sewing machine working away. One day, she took me to a lovely dress shop in our little town where my aunts worked. She wanted me to feel the excitement of trying on gowns.

I twirled in front of the floor length mirror three times in three different beautiful gowns. The fourth one I put on was a sky blue satin gown with multi layers of stiff under slips. It had puff sleeves, a square neckline and a huge wide blue ribbon that wrapped around my waist into a huge bow in the back.

Oh, how I twirled in front of that mirror and smiled at the “Oohs and ahhs” of my aunts and Mom. Such a fun afternoon. Mom continued sewing on my gown but would not let me see it until right before the dance.

A few days before Christmas, my older brother and I were told by Mom that only the little ones would get gifts this year … that she would be sure we each had a little something though. We understood. My little siblings were thrilled with “Santa’s choices,” my big brother got some kind of sports ball and I got a beautiful hair ribbon to wear to the dance. Dad called us all into the kitchen for breakfast and Mom grabbed my hand and said there was a package behind the tree for me.

Yay! I just KNEW she had finished my dress for the dance and was so excited. I slowly unwrapped the package and lifted the white tissue with my heart racing. Was it cut back from one of hers or knit? What color? Above or below my knees? As I gently unfolded the tissue, WAIT! WHAT? That beautiful blue dress unfolded into my arms and I hugged it like it was a new baby and cried my eyes out.

Mom joined me, and cried along with me. No words were necessary. The dance was less than a week away, and I was flying with excitement.

Mom helped me dress the night of the dance, tied that Christmas bow around my ponytail. She stuffed cotton into the toes of her black T-strap shoes so they fit somewhat.

When Paul arrived with his Mom, he gave me a darling wrist corsage and off we went. We did not dance until the final dance….and while dancing, he kissed my forehead and told me I looked so pretty. I was floating on a cloud.

Paul’s Mom asked me to sing “Ave Maria” on the way home – which I gladly did. Such a wonderful end to the evening. That dress hung in our closet for a few days and then my aunts daughter needed to borrow it. I never saw it again. I know in my heart that my aunts let me “borrow” it for the night. It brings tears to my eyes today — at the age of 81, as I recall such detail to one of the most magical Christmases ever!

Candace Kircher is a Mayville resident.