Giveaway Helps Spread Christmas Spirit

Most people wouldn’t understand why a bleary-eyed single mother would hunker down five days in a ramshackle “tent” on the narrow sidewalk of a tough Boyle Heights neighborhood.

But for Martha Monsalves, 36, it’s a chance to do something she could not do on her own: give her four children the kinds of Christmas gifts they dream about.

“It hurts me not to be able to buy them what they deserve,” she said. “When you have children and no money--then it’s worth it to do this.”

Monsalves was near the head of the line of mothers and families who were waiting Friday for the biggest toy giveaway on the Eastside.

Every year, hundreds of residents in the working class neighborhood camp out days ahead for the giveaway organized by the Hollenbeck Youth Center and the nearby Hollenbeck Police Station. This year’s will be the 18th event.

Some people, like Monsalves--inspired by the Christmas dreams of hopeful children--have been camped out at 1st and Chicago streets since Monday for the event, which starts today at 10 a.m.

Center employees said the toy giveaway could draw thousands of people. The largest crowd in the event’s history was in 1996, the year more than 3,500 presents had been stolen a week before. After news of the thefts went out to the community, a kind of “miracle” reserved for Frank Capra movies occurred: Regular joes and celebrities alike came together to donate more toys than ever before.

So was born what is now the event’s official moniker: “Miracle on 1st Street.”

In addition to camping out, Monsalves has continued to work her shifts at a Silver Lake 99 cent store. The Christmas toy giveaway sometimes means getting out of work at 3 a.m. and going straight to her makeshift tent. When she is not at the tent, a friend stays with the children.

In a cruel twist, Monsalves’ rent is due on Christmas Eve. So, she said, there’s no way she could buy her children what they want.

Her 5-year-old daughter, Jennifer, knows what she wants: “Una Barbie grande”--a large Barbie she can “dress like myself.”

At another tent, 12-year old Marlene Rubio is less picky, but then she and her mom have only camped out in a teeny-tiny tent since Thursday night.

“My mom works really hard, and she doesn’t make too much money,” Marlene said. “I’m not too picky. At least I get something.” Last year, she got green overalls and an LAPD T-shirt.

The Hollenbeck Junior High School student admits to being disconcerted by the night life around the encampment--the sound of “guys walking nearby--talking.” She and another sister join their mother in the overnight stays.

Still, the families along the street say it’s worth it.

The long lines are driven by two main forces: Most people in this neighborhood don’t have much money; and, the story goes, the first dozen or so people in line get “some pretty mean gifts,” said Jose Correa, field director at the center. He wouldn’t say what the most impressive gifts would be this time, but he said people at the head of the line will not be disappointed.

Hollenbeck police officers try to keep tabs on the campers, said Sgt. Mike Marchello, who is in charge of community relations in the Eastside division. Friday night, a deputy district attorney-turned-Santa Claus visited the campers and passed out candy and other goodies.

By early this morning, the line could stretch as far as Cesar Chavez Avenue, two long blocks away, said Mike McClure, program coordinator at the youth center. Police officers will monitor the day’s activities to make sure things stay peaceful.

Corporate sponsors, radio stations and other organizations will be on hand to provide entertainment as four Santas--cleverly deployed-- pass out toys.

For Roosevelt High School English teacher Ute Passey, 62, who dropped off a bag of toys Thursday, the event has a meaning that goes back to 1945.

It was then that she and her family made the trek out of East Germany, just weeks after Christmas. But when the family departed, all but a few things were left behind. She and her brother were only able to take one toy each with them.

“It was rough, but I think compared to a lot of the people out here, we were lucky,” Passey said. “But I know how hard it is to have children and not to be able to afford the things you’d like to give them.”