A Christmas story from long ago

Even through the Great Depression, our family always had a large Christmas tree. Growing up, we had no electricity, so our Christmas tree was bereft of lights until one year when Mom ordered something special from the catalog, small candles and holders that snapped onto the boughs.

This treat of lights on the tree could only happen Christmas Eve because a burned-down candle would be dangerous. Even then, Dad stood by with a bucket full of water in case some needles flamed. As Mom lit each candle on the tree in our darkened log cabin living room, the magic increased until we gazed starry-eyed at the spectacle. All too soon, Dad said that we should blow them out.

When it was time to warm up the Model A and go to Midnight Mass, Mom always forgot her purse as we headed out the door, giving Santa an opportunity to put our meager presents, usually mittens or a cap, under the tree.

One Christmas, I had a quarter to spend on Dad’s gift, so went to Caughren’s Men’s Store in Whitefish and asked them what I could buy for 25 cents. The salesman kindly directed me to a pair of men’s garters, all in a nice box too. I took my prize home, wrapped it in previously-used-ironed-out gift wrap and waited eagerly for Dad’s surprise. When he opened my treasure, he said not one word, just “Hrumph!!”

That year, I had no more money, so found an almost-new dish towel in Mom’s linen drawer, took it to Home Ec., used several of the school transfers and some floss and embroidered designs on the dish towel for Mom’s gift.

Maybe that was the year I got a white rabbit fur muff. On the train, going to Grandma Tombrink’s for Christmas, Dad went to the smoker and left me sitting in the coach. Soon the conductor came through and noticed my muff. He paused, and seriously proclaimed, “Sorry, miss, no animals in the coach. It has to go to the baggage car.”

About that time, Dad came back and both men chuckled. For a few miles, the scenery out my window seemed to be moving through a tearful fog.

Memorable also was Otto’s German Shepherd pulling our sled through the snow.

Gram came out for the day and our simple holiday traditions made us kids as happy as the more extravagant celebrations of families with a bit more.