One Very Cold Christmas

Good morning.  We are expecting another beautiful day in our part of paradise today.  I am glad to be out and about this morning.  We will begin to look at funny Christmas stories and many, many Christmas mornings were fun and exciting but one I remember so well.

I was seven and one half years old and we were having a winter to remember.  The entire world seemed to be frozen and cattle that normally grazed through a Deep South winter were walking on ice and snow instead.  My eldest brother, Clinton, spent more time at home because he was hunting.  We needed him to hunt this year apparently and often he brought a friend with him, Davis.  We all liked Davis because he had lots of funny stories to tell and children and adults like a good story.  Davis had entered into the work world with a wooden leg.  Yep, back then prosthetics were quite limited and I am sure he was pleased to have any kind of leg since he had lost his natural leg.  Well, in the beginning, we did not know his leg was not natural and he entertained four very impressionable young ones with heroic stories and often used a small Old Hickory pocket knife to drive his point home by allowing the knife to stick into that leg.

Finally Daddy said, “Ok Davis.  Now show the children your leg so they won’t try to be a hero with a pocket knife.”  We all laughed but we had never known anyone who had lost their leg so we were attentive until he finished his story telling.

Clinton and Davis had slipped into the house on Christmas Eve and gone to bed.  The house was very quiet because we wanted Santa to make his stop and bring us goodies.  I am not sure what woke me that night but I was a nosy child so I went to investigate.  Along the way there was a room between the girl’s room and the living room.  I guess it was for company, I really don’t remember.  My nosy self, went right through that room without a thought and I stumbled over that wooden leg.  I guess I was so afraid of being caught I managed to keep my mouth shut for once.  But, when I looked into the living room my Mama and Daddy were laughing and going through all of the things Santa had left us.  I was so mad!  When I went back to bed I was so mad I never went back to sleep and when morning finally arrived I was just an old sour child.

Mama thought I did not like my Christmas and she asked me about it at breakfast.  Davis said he thought I must have seen Santa at work and was really mad that I had to wait until daylight to get out of bed.  He winked at me and I smiled.  Somehow it didn’t seem the same but our parents really should check out what Santa brings just in case it is not a good thing.  I truly loved the wooden doll with a soft body dressed in red.  Her socks had real lace on them and her shoes were black and shiny.  She was beautiful and my other gifts were clothes and shoes so I didn’t get too excited about that.

We ate a lot of squirrel that winter.  Fried with gravy and biscuits, squirrel dumplings, and roasted.  Anyway Mama could make squirrel taste better was good.  Clinton and Davis went squirrel hunting that winter because the squirrels were as fat as chickens and more plentiful than rabbits.  I can never remember a colder Christmas in my entire childhood.