Editor’s note: We asked readers and staff to share their favorite Christmas memories. Today, “My Best Christmas Story”: Raging cats, raging vacuums and one illicitly trimmed tree.

Jingle all the way

Here’s a story from when I was real young, maybe in the 5- or 6-age-range: I was in bed on Christmas Eve and it must have been around 1 or 2 in the morning when I was awoken by the sound of sleigh bells. Who else could it be but Santa flying through the neighborhood? I was kind of scared and went right back to sleep as nobody is supposed to see Santa Claus even though I was tempted to peek out the window. Later that same night I had to go to the bathroom and my father got up with me and there were presents under the tree, so Santa had made his stop at 9 Vining St. in Lisbon Falls.

In later years (my teens) I heard this same noise again one day while shoveling the driveway. It was the sound of tire chains on a passing car. That’s what I must of heard years before … but then again, maybe, just maybe it really was the sound of the bells on Santa’s sleigh.

— Steve Yenco, Lisbon Falls

Tales of two kitties

Every Christmas my brother and two sisters would hold our stockings up in front of the fireplace and dad would take a photo on Christmas Eve. We even included our cat in the photo. One summer we “inherited” another cat from one of my mom’s friends who could no longer take care of it. They were both old cats and did not get along, so we had to keep one upstairs and one down, always having the door shut between. Aside from them hissing and clawing between the doors, the only time they got to see each other was on Christmas Eve when we all posed for that photo: The kids smiling happily at the camera and the cat’s hissing and clawing at us to get at each other. Of course it was not the only time they got together throughout the year, but that is something I won’t ever admit having a hand in.

— Russ Dillingham, chief photographer

Christmas ends with a giant sucking sound

When I was about 8 or 9 years old, a traveling salesman made the rounds in my neighborhood near Thorncrag Bird Sanctuary in Lewiston. It was the first time I had ever met one and he was selling these huge beasts called Kirby vacuum cleaners. I was afraid of this thing because it was huge and had headlights like a MACK truck. It was also very loud and brown except for the stainless steel bumper thing on the front. Well, my dad bought one and the Kirby was parked in the living room closet. I was afraid of it and avoided that closet at all costs for years.

That first Christmas after the monster invaded our home my father decided to drag out the Kirby just as soon as all the gifts were opened. The Kirby literally sucked up Christmas! It not only picked up the pine needles and tinsel but anything in its path. I swear the drapes were ready to come off the windows. Every year after that the Kirby marked the end of Christmas at my house. When my dad passed away over 20 years later that old monster was still in the closet and somehow had multiplied. My dad had bought four of them at garage sales — talk about a nightmare! I lined them all up on the road for the dump truck to take away.

— Susan Bernier Hedrich, New Gloucester

Transformed overnight

I came from a family of 10 children. Mom never made us believe in Santa Claus. She said that if Jesus wanted us to have things we wanted for Christmas, He’d make sure we got them. We had no electricity in the house and heated the place with a wood stove. It was Christmas Eve 1939. There was nothing I could see around the house to say the next day was Christmas. My sisters were giggling as if to say, “We know a secret,” but I did not catch on. I was 4 years old. I went to bed as usual.

The next morning I woke up early and WHAT A SURPRISE, as if I had entered a fairyland! The whole house was decorated, a Christmas tree, garlands crisscrossing the ceiling with a big bell in the middle, the cardboard village, the manger. The Christmas stockings were full with our yearly orange, handful of hard candies, whole nuts to crack. Mom had made popcorn balls, Needhams, mint candies. It was a VERY merry Christmas.

— Gabrielle de Moras, Lewiston

Riding off into the sunset

My most memorable Christmas was when I was a teenager. The gifts had been opened and it was obvious that I had received many more gifts than my 9-year-old sister, Linda. She was trying to not show her disappointment but it was a struggle. Since she was an avid horseback rider, my parents suggested we go out to the riding stable and take some Christmas carrots to her favorite horse, Cheyenne.

We all hopped into the car and headed to the stables. When we got there, the stable supervisor told my sister that Cheyenne had been sold. She was devastated. Since Cheyenne was still in the stables, we went down to feed her the Christmas carrots. There was a huge red bow and banner on the stable saying, “Merry Christmas Linda.” Cheyenne was her horse now. At that point, we all cried. What a great Christmas.

— Carol L. Murrell, Turner

A Christmas cut and run

In the early 1970s, I was in college in rural Pennsylvania and living with three other guys in an apartment when we decided to decorate the living room for Christmas. We bought a cardboard fireplace, which we put against a wall. It featured a red light bulb and a little spinning disc that gave the appearance of a flickering flame. But we needed a tree, and we had no money. So, my roommate, Chuck, and I set out one night in his VW Bug to find one. Driving down a deserted, snow-covered interstate, we spotted one off the road.

The plan called for me to get out while he drove ahead and then circled back for me. My first step over the guardrail landed me in a 5-foot ditch full of snow. Crawling out, I struggled to the tree line and began sawing in the dark. It was a big, fat trunk and my saw was small, so it was tough going.

Chuck came back, but I was still cutting, so I waved for him to go around again.

Finally, the tree down, I struggled to drag it back to the road through the deep snow. When Chuck returned again, we tied it to the top of the VW. However, we quickly realized the tree was so big that while the trunk hung over the windshield, another 10 feet of tree dragged behind the car on the road. So, we untied the tree, I dragged it over the guardrail and Chuck took off again. I cut more off the tree and, when Chuck returned, we strapped it to the top and fled.

Returning to our apartment, we found the tree way too big to get in the front door. So, I cut off a few more feet. Dragging it inside, we set it up, but it was still too tall to stand up straight, so I cut off another few feet of tree trunk

By this time, after all the dragging and cutting, the tree looked a little sad. Still, along with the fake fireplace, it gave a nice Christmas look to the room.

— Rex Rhoades, executive editor

Coming tomorrow: More of your best Christmas stories.