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To: daisyscarlett
A Christmas Place

The year is 1937 and the world is gray. At the end of a muddy, rutted, dirt road deep in the rolling hills of the Cumberland Plateau in Tennessee you will see a gray clapboard cabin. Beyond the cabin the road drops into a creek swollen with winter rains. It doesn't matter, for nothing travels this road except horse-drawn wagons.

The cabin sits on a foundation of stacked limestone rock; a pillar of rock at each corner. If you are so minded you can throw a cat under the house and it will land on it's feet in the back yard. An L-shaped porch wraps around the front and side of the house, and the tin roof sags between the poles too weak for the load of it.

Inside the front door is a small alcove with a set of stairs leading up to an attic floor. Underneath the open stairs is a double bed that fills the remainder of the space in the alcove. The floors are made of a single layer of planks and when the wind whistles under the house, it pushes up between the boards so that one's feet are always cold. Beyond the entrance is a large room with an open fireplace made of giant slabs of limstone. The fire is the only color in the room except for the quilt on Mom and Dad's bed. The room serves as bedroom and living room. To the side of that room is a kitchen with a wood stove, a couple of tables, and a pie safe. Water is drawn from a well outside the kitchen door.

It's Christmas Eve and the family; Mom, Dad, Jo, Bill and Nan are sitting in front of the open fireplace. Mom is large with child again. She is shaking a popcorn popper over the flames. The children are stringing popcorn onto threads, diligently working to decorate the cedar tree that Dad has cut earlier and set in the corner over by the kitchen. They have already cut snowflackes from folded pages out of the Sears-Roebuck catalog and placed them on the tree. It is a peaceful scene as the children dream of the wonders of Christmas. They look forward to morning when there will be apples and oranges and peppermint candy in the stockings they have hung on the mantle. They know there will be no toys.

All is too quiet for a house full of small children. Suddenly comes a STOMP, STOMP, STOMP on the wooden boards of the front porch! The children are startled and frightened. Then, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM! The door threatens to remove itself from it's hinges. The children run to hide behind Mom as Dad goes to the door. In a moment he returns followed by an apparition in black who is shouting, HO! HO! HO!

Dad says, "Children, look who's here. It's Santa Claus!"

The children have never seen Santa Claus. They have heard of him and how he delivers toys to children on Christmas, but he has never stopped at their house before. The loud, frightening person stomps over to the chair by the fireplace and sits down. He pats his knee and says, "Come children, sit on Santa's lap and tell him what you want for Christmas."

Bill, not wanting to show cowardess, ventures closer. Jo is measuring the distance between fear and curiosity. Nan is cowering behind Mom with undisguised terror. The man in black has a red face, making it an added color to the fire and the quilt.

After Bill and Jo have gathered courage enough to get close to Santa to express their wishes, Mom and Dad insist that Nan must go and tell Santa what she wants for Christmas or else she might not get anything in her stocking. Eventually avarice gains the upper hand over fear and Nan moves a few steps beyond Mom's chair and whispers, "I want a doll."

As Santa prepares to leave, Bill remembers something he has heard about Santa. "Santa, where are your reindeer?"

Santa replies, "I left them across the creek. There's not enough room for them on your roof." Then he stomps across the planks and booms out the front door hollering, "Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!"

The silence in the room is more pronounced after the noise of the nocturnal visitor. The children are amazed and speechless, and Dad meets no resistence when he orders them to bed. They get into pajamas by the fireplace and run to the bed under the stairs as Mom brings warm bricks wrapped in cloth to tuck at their feet.

Christmas morning breaks cold and crisp with ice forming on everything, including the water standing in the bucket on the kitchen table. The children run to the fireplace and grab their stocking from the mantle. Yes, Santa has left apples, oranges, peppermint sticks and nuts in the stockings. The children are happy as they tackle the unfamiliar task of peeling oranges. Dad comes in and says, "Look! There seems to be something under the Christmas tree!"

He reaches under the tree and brings out some packages wrapped in newspaper and tied with colorful ribbon. He reads from the packages, "This one says to Bill," as he hands Bill the gift. The girls watch as their brother tears open the paper to reveal a toy truck. Wonder of wonders! Now they are excited to receive their own packages. Jo finds books and paper dolls. Nan, who asked for a doll, was overjoyed to open a miniature trunk containing, not one, but two tiny dolls. It was the first Christmas gift she had ever received and one that she would treasure for the rest of her life. But the greatest gift of all is the memory of a night when Santa Claus himself crossed the creek and manifested in a little country cabin in Tennessee. Merry Christmas to all!


70 posted on 12/18/2002 9:40:48 AM PST by WVNan
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To: WVNan
Hi, Nan!

What a beautiful story!

I just wiped tears out of my eyes from posting my memories of Christmases in Saskatchewan, Canada. Then I read your story and had to wipe them away again!

Merry Christmas!

72 posted on 12/18/2002 9:45:25 AM PST by Pippin
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To: WVNan
Oh, Nan - thanks for transporting us with you to a different time - - when there were few sniveling Gimme-Gimmee/I WANT critters the old Santa would have given a lump of coal..:)))

May we all capture and appreciate the true spirit of giving, and gracious receiving, and honestly honor the One Who was Born on Earth that we could know Love..

77 posted on 12/18/2002 9:53:49 AM PST by LadyX
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To: WVNan
Oh, Nan. That is beautiful! Thanks for sharing that memory with all of us. I wish the children of today...more of them....knew the value of such memories. It is what gives fiber and strength of character to people. My sister also kept her very first dolls, although they had no fingers because she had this obnoxious little sister who managed to cut them off at some point! :( (me)! My only excuse is that I was very much younger.

I can remember wanting a little table and chair set when I was little. I remember seeing a flat large package under the tree and I knew that must be it! And it was! Oh, what I would give to still have that today. But the memory will be there forever.

92 posted on 12/18/2002 10:06:30 AM PST by MistyCA
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To: WVNan
Beautifully told story Nan. It made the monitor all misty.
109 posted on 12/18/2002 10:36:40 AM PST by lodwick
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To: WVNan
Thank you Nan. I loved your Christmas Place Story and I know how you must treasure those dolls today. Do you still have them?

We, too, used to wake up to stockings crammed with oranges and nuts and maybe a little candy. A far cry from today when most folks stuff stockings with all kinds of expensive goodies.

Thank you so much for sharing....


157 posted on 12/18/2002 12:50:31 PM PST by daisyscarlett
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