Shirley Jean
hung up her stocking at the fireplace and Dad did too as he usually does when a
grandchild is here. Ina
to Vance, January 1937
Christmas
Night, 1936
The
fire was burning lower now and would soon go out unless Ina put another stick
of wood on it, which she decided to do. She was enjoying a chance to be alone
with her thoughts and wasn’t particularly sleepy yet. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt
to generate more heat for the house.
So,
where were we? Oh yes. The tree was up and decorated, and Shirley also made and
placed garlands over the doors. They hadn’t decorated so well since 1930 when
Ethel and Shirley Jean, then just five years old, had last spent Christmas with
them.
Christmas
Eve Henry left to go “over home” and spend Christmas with his folks. Ina liked
Henry well enough, but she was also glad to have “just her own children” with
her. There were the six of them in all, and they were a merry group.
After
an early supper of soup, biscuits, and apple salad, Ethel and Shirley hurried
to finish the dishes while Ina set out ginger cookies, sliced pork cake, hard
candy, etc. Tomorrow “the Junes” would come to share a big Christmas dinner,
but for tonight it was just their family. They had decided that this year they
would defer their “tree” (gift exchange) until after breakfast Christmas Day to
prolong the celebration as long as possible.
So,
after supper Ina, the mistress of the celebration, gathered the family for a
special Christmas Eve “tree lighting” ceremony. They doused the lights (except that
from the fireplace), and Ina lit the candles one by one as Ethel led them in a
chorus of “Silent Night.” Ina allowed the candles to burn ten minutes or so.
She was aware that Ernest had made sure the water bucket in the kitchen was
full, and he also sat near the door so that he could dash for it if the tree
caught fire. Ina thought him a bit paranoid, but she had to appreciate that he
was only thinking of their safety.
Ina
had never experienced a fire-related accident, but as her thoughts meandered
through Christmas events, she remembered a conversation with her friend, Nina
Portfors. Nina had related that when she and her husband, Charlie, lived on the
farm near Weippe (pronounced wee-ipe), Charlie had arranged that “Santa” should
pay a call on Christmas morning to give the children (Francis and Dorothy)
their gifts. As Santa hove in sight, Charlie called, “Here he comes,” and Nina
hastened to light the candles on the tree. Santa entered the house and approached
the tree to begin his work, when suddenly, Charlie (and Charlie was a rather small
man), grabbed Santa and whirled him out the door into the snow. Santa was
unaware that his beard had caught fire. Charlie’s quick action had averted what
might have been a tragedy. Yes, you had to be careful with fire, Ina nodded to
herself, but one also heard that those big electric Christmas bulbs could cause
fires in dry trees.
After
some munching of holiday goodies and general Christmas fun, Shirley Jean had hung
up her sock. Playing along, Jack hung his, too. Ina was ready to help Santa
with Shirley Jean’s sock, but fortunately, she remembered a package of nuts
daughter Myrtle had sent, and those went into Jack’s sock. KW
[This photograph of the Christmas tree in the living room of the Julian and Ina Dobson home was taken in 1921. Given that the camera wasn't very sophisticated, I think the picture turned out fairly well. If you look closely, you can see gifts or cards tied onto the branches.]
4 comments:
I really like the card with Santa. As I read 'Twas the Night before Christmas to Nick this year, it struck me that Santa and his reindeer are miniature. It says so right in the poem, but Santa is always depicted on TV as full size, which leads to the confusion about how he gets down the chimney!
Maybe if we stuck to the story the way Dr. Moore wrote it, we'd have less confusion in our young people.
Oh Hallie, you are right! Funny how things just don't register until someone points them out. :-)
Meanwhile, I'm glad we don't use candles. And Ina was correct about those old big lights. I think it was Christmas of 1967 that they burned holes in two items that got pushed up against them. At least we didn't burn the house down. The next Christmas Mom bought those tiny twinkle lights fpr the tree.
Yeah -- but those big old lights and the glow they cast are the epitome of Christmas for baby boomers and before. But boy! they did get hot!
My dad was in charge of Christmas lighting at our house, and he switched early on. The first strings of little lights came from Italy, and they were expensive. As a child I was charged with finding and tightening the loose light bulb(s) that kept the string from lighting. It could be frustrating.
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