I am always reminded of stories Daddy and Mother used to tell of their Christmas'. Actually when I think of their stories I am reminded of how far our little corner of the world has progressed in a very short time. Demand, technology, medical advancements, increased education, and population growth have all had a huge impact on our growth. However, I also think it has added to our stress. How is your blood pressure this Christmas Season? I know, lets all sit down and have a cup of coffee or some tea and a time of remembrance - maybe call that friend, family member or neighbor we have been meaning to call and wish them a Happy Day and a Very Merry Christmas.
If mother were alive she would be 92 and Daddy would be 100. Time does fly by but I want to share some of their childhood memories. It is always fun to step back in time.
The year was 1918 or it could have been 1921 or - before there was the noise of cars or planes to wake you - before there were roads for the cars - when horse or oxen drawn wagons slowly moved across winding mountain trails - driven by men and women at work taming a wild hard land. A time when the family hens laid eggs to be sold for 1 cent each, eggs much to valuable to be eaten for the income was needed to purchase salt, sugar, snuff, coffee, tea - things that could not be grown on the new ground being cleared. A time when many clean mountain streams that had just the right amount of water were harnessed to turn mill wheels to grind corn into grain. The grain was used for bread and also traded for living essentials. A time when clothes could not be purchased but stores carried bolts of material so they could be made at home. A time when flour came in pretty fabric sacks that could be turned into quilts and clothes. Socks and gloves were hand knitted from tangled hanks of wool purchased for $1.75 in a great big bag from mills off the mountain down in the flatland were few had time or means to venture. Cousin Elizabeth worked there and once a year she brought the wool. We had to untangle it little by little so the wool could be used for knitting. Flax was grown and its fibers harvested to be turned into thread by calloused hands spinning to the flickering light of candles, oil lamps and fireplaces. Quilts that were to become collector’s items were painstakingly hand stitched to keep loved ones warm and safe. It was a time when shawls covered the ladies from the top down. Sundays were for celebrating God and resting. Horses were a necessity for survival and colts could be sold for $25 each. Neighbors knew each other. Cabins were rare except for an area you came to now and then were several small cabins would be located close together - the beginning of communities and future towns. Small country stores carried the few available goods they could afford to have hauled in by wagon from train depots located a day or more away. Bananas arrived in a perfectly designed box and the sign warned beware of poisonous spiders. Oranges came in a crate wrapped in brown paper and said Kiss.
The year was 1918 - I was 6 years old wearing my new homemade overalls and I knew all about Christmas. I knew Santa would be coming to our house because I had not been bad. My five brothers and three sisters had not been bad. We were all excited about Santa coming. I could hardly keep from jumping up and down and shouting and running and yelling. We kept running outside to look for sleigh tracks in the snow. We all giggled for no reason at all.
During this Holiday Seaon may your giggles by many, your smiles bright, your house full of warmth, your hearts full of love!! May you feel God's love...
Merry Christmas to all....Joann, Bob, and Sigmund (our golden retriever)
