NEWS FROM THE HILLS
Dear Cousin,
Black, wispy clouds are moving fast high above restless gray clouds that crowd the sky. The wind comes in gusts, blowing dry twigs and brown leaves high in the air, and howling through the pine trees on the hill. The weather is changing and so did the year.
Thinking back a week or so – Christmas Holidays at our house:
The youngsters are wishing for snow, as they go about singing Christmas carols and waiting anxiously for the big day to come. I can remember, as a kid, that excited, fluttery feeling as we eagerly waited for Christmas to come.
Night after night, we would pore over the Sears and Roebuck Christmas catalog until the pages were nearly worn out. Lying on our stomachs on the floor, we would pick and choose and wish, and dream impossible dreams. The catalog was a magical wish book, filled from cover to cover with dolls, wagons, tricycles, and other toys.
Toys were simpler then, but to our eyes they were the most wonderful creations in the universe. We usually received one main toy, dolls for the girls and cap busters for the boys, plus practical things such as mittens and toboggans (knit caps to you city slickers.) We were extremely proud of our gifts, and grateful for each thing.
The box from Uncle Myles and Aunt Lucille was received with bated breath. In it were packages of every sort, selected and wrapped by Aunt Lucy during the year. Having no children of their own, they took us under their wings. Both of them are gone now, but the thoughtful things they did for us will always be a warm memory.
The Carbide Christmas Party held each year in the Municipal Auditorium was one of the highlights of our holiday season. It was a combination circus and party, and was an extravaganza beyond words to us “country” children. To top off the evening, each of us, down to the smallest baby, received a pound each of hard candy and nuts. That was luxury indeed!
I will never forget one scene that we saw during WWII. I must have been 9 or 10 years old and many of our Armed Forces were still overseas. It opened with a soldier lying on his stomach in a pup tent, writing a letter back home. Blue lights played on the whole scene, and the Carbide Chorus sang “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas” in the background.
It was touching and sad, and makes me think of our men and women in the service of our country who are far away from home this Christmas season. How we need to pray that God will keep his protecting hand over them, and restore them back home to their families.
Christmas is much different now. Today’s children have so much that it is hard for them to really appreciate another gift. In fact, even our own grandchildren have so many toys it is almost impossible to buy them something that they don’t already have.
Daughter Patty and I went to town this week, and it boggled my mind to see the row after row of toys on the shelves. What an array! It was more than the mind could take in. After a while my head began to swim, and I was glad to leave the urban area and get back home to the Clay County hills.
I received a letter this week from Martha Martin of Pipestem, and she was reminiscing about Christmas time when she was young. She wrote, “Those were the good and peaceful old days, never to be again. I still get homesick for the simple life.”
“Our stockings were hung by the fireplace, and what a thrill on Christmas morning to find it contained a stick of candy, some nuts, and fruit. The real meaning seems to have escaped this new generation, with too many worldly activities.”
Mom recalls their Christmas time down on Big Laurel Creek. They would hang their gray stockings on the mantle, and on Christmas morning there would be apples, an orange, and some hard candy in them. Sometimes there would also be a handful of Brazil nuts, and some of Maw’s molasses cookies. They felt happy and blessed with such bounty.
Yes, I am afraid that we have lost many things since that time — a spirit of thankfulness for our bountiful way of life, and most of all a gratitude to God for giving to us the marvelous gift of His Son. This is something that we should thank Him for every day.
We need the spirit of loving and giving of ourselves — not just at this season, but it should be a way of life. I am thinking of a poem that Mom has often recited, part of which goes like this:
Let me tell you, chillun, it ain’t the presents that makes the Christmas gay
It’s the heart that loves the Christ-Child, bringing peace goodwill to men
Hunting our his heartsick brother, for to make him smile again.
And the spirit of the season ain’t gwine nebber to depart
‘Cause if you’re like us in old Virginny
You’ve got Christmas in your heart!”
(AND IT’S THERE ALL YEAR LONG)
Love to all and HAPPY NEW YEAR,
Cousin Alyce Faye
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