DAY 4 – A FARMHOUSE CHRISTMAS

 

[Author's note: Please understand that this story is based on life in a remote rural farmhouse. As family history, it may or may not be true. I call it fractured family history. To continue:]

After a light supper of beef vegetable soup and bread, the three of them – Jack, Ina, and Shirley – sat reading under the Aladin lamp at the dining room table. Shirley was delighted to discover the next installment of a serialized novella she had been following in the most recent batch of shared publications. Ina was pondering an inspirational article in the Christian Herald, and Jack was reading political opinions in an outdated newspaper. Just then the jangling telephone startled them, and Shirley, being closest, rose quickly to answer it. 

“Shirley,” she heard her sister Ethel say, “let me talk to Mama.” 

Ina quickly took the receiver and stepped up to the mouthpiece while simultaneously turning over the three-minute egg timer that she kept near the telephone to time long-distance calls. 

“Mama,” Ina heard Ethel say, “Ernest . . . on assignment during Christmas.  . . . Sadie and I . . . to the farm for Christmas.” 

Ina could barely hear Ethel for the static on the line. “Yes, do come,” she shouted into the mouthpiece.

“What, Mama?” answered Ethel. “I can’t hear you.” 

Further communication being impossible, they each rang off. Ina had no idea when Ethel would arrive, but it was no matter. Ethel would make her plans known in some way. For the time being, it was enough to know that Ethel and Sadie would be home for Christmas. She and Shirley were both too excited to sleep, and while Jack said little, he was pleased, too. Ethel was always a lively addition to the household, and four-year-old granddaughter Sadie was the delight of their hearts. Sadie’s presence would make this Christmas.  

Ethel with her daughter Shirley Jean

[Ethel and Ernest Robinson had one child, a daughter named Shirley Jean after their respective sisters. However, I call her Sadie in my story because apparently two Shirleys in one blog is confusing, even if one is Shirley Jean. Even back in the day, the family would call her S.J. to avoid confusion. The real Shirley Jean, my cousin, was born in 1926 and passed away in 1996.]