Back to the Genealogy Index
8 Wheel Log Wagon
Jones Cty GenWeb Project
Wayne Cty GenWeb Project
When Cindy Rice called me several weeks ago to give a program to the Christian Ladies group, I told her that she had the wrong telephone number. When she assured me that she had the right number, I was both shocked and pleased to have the opportunity to share a little of Christmas with you. Much of what I say will be recalled by many of you.
I recall many years ago, our Christmas started when Papa would get Molly, the Lindsey Wagon Company truck and on the Saturday after Thanksgiving, he would round up the children and we would head to the woods to select our Christmas Tree. It was always a hard job because every time you found a tree that you liked, someone would say that they had found one that was prettier. Well, we finally selected the tree and when we got home, we put it in a hand-made stand (by the, way, my sister still uses the same stand) and then we would decorate the tree.
Christmas Eve finally arrived and we all got ready for the best day of the year. My motherís sisters from Wisconsin and Canada, along with their families would come spend Christmas with us. On Christmas Eve night, it was my job to get in the coal and put enough in the heatrola in the living room so we would not have to bother with the ashes during the evening. Anyway, Papa would get the big family Bible and read the Christmas Story.
The grown-ups got the chairs and the children would sit around on the floor to hear the Christmas Story. After which, the others would start telling what they liked and loved about Christmas. After that, all the children would go to bed.
The time between then and getting up time seemed an eternity, but it finally came. All had to wait until everyone was ready to go in the living room to see what Santa had brought. After we had time to look things over real good, it was time to practice the real spirit of Christmas. Sometime before, Papa had purchased a case of oranges and a case of apples and it was the childrenís place to fill baskets with fruit and go with Papa and Mama to deliver them to people who were less fortunate. After that was done, it was time to play with the toys, the dolls, skates and scooters.
I must tell you this. Back in the dark ages, it was unlawful to sell oleo in the state of Wisconsin. My aunt liked it so much better than butter, that each time she came to Laurel, she would go to Woolworth and buy a very cheap suitcase and fill it with oleo. This oleo was the kind that you purchased in a one pound block uncolored.
They provided you with a small yellow looking dye pill, about the size of a butter bean and you had to mix your own. Anyway, she would get the suitcase full of oleo and she would check that bag along with the other bags on the train.
It was in 1933 that I received my first model electric train, I thought I was proud of it then but now it is one of my cherished possessions. The train is 51 years old which seems impossible since I am only 39.
TRADITION: There are three couples in Laurel that we care so much about, but a strange thing has happened. When all of us came home from the war in 1946 and 1947, we got together for a Christmas party, just the four couples. We had such a good time that we decided to get together the next Christmas. This has been a yearly thing now for 38 years ---a tradition that was started and no one was aware of what was taking place. The funny part of the story is the fact that this is the only time during the year that we all get together.
TRADITION: When all the children in the family got married, we would celebrate Christmas on a round robin basis. This took place until we all had so many children that no one had the room so we then decided to celebrate Christmas in our own homes.
TRADITION: Christmas Eve is not complete now unless we go to our Church and participate in a very short meaningful service. No one dresses up for the occasion but we all meet in the fellowship hall and are given an unlighted candle. At a given time, the Pastor turns off the lights and then he lights his candle, after which others light their candles and the process continues until all of the candles are lighted and the room is bright with light. This tells me something if by lighting one little candle and the whole room is bright with light in just a few minutes, why wouldnít it work with telling the Christmas Story, telling everyone about the love of Christ and spreading the Good News. Yes, it can happen.
TRADITION: After the short service at the Church, all of us go home and enjoy our Christmas Dinner, after which we give our gifts. On Christmas Day, we go and check on c grandchildren to see what Santa had brought. Then, we have a quiet day at home.
TRADITION: About 10 years ago, we put up a bare Christmas tree in our front yard using clear lights. We have enjoyed it so much that we have continued and now we have added an electric train around the tree. It is becoming a tradition with us without us realizing it.
Looking back over the years, the worst Christmas I had was when I was 8 years old. I had wanted a BB gun ever since I could remember, well I got it. That was the good part----the sad part was this: To paint a picture of what happened, here is the background: The kitchen at home had a very high ceiling, in fact it was high enough that Papa built a clothes line with 6 wires that had a pulley so it could be raised to the ceiling. It must have looked like rain or something, anyway, the clothes line was filled with wet clothes strung up to dry. Another thing. Papa had made was a flour bin large enough to hold a 48 pound sack of flour, located under the work counter. The stage is set. The trouble started. I had been in the front yard shooting the gun and decided to go to the back yard. Common sense would have told me to go around the house but I chose the other route. As I went through the kitchen, I saw mama bending over the flour bin and that position provided a perfect target. Yes, it happened, I shot the gun. Mama raised up with a full scoop of flour and a blood curdling scream, throwing flour all over the kitchen, even up to the clothes hanging in there to dry. Well, in a flash, in walks Papa and he never said a word, he grabbed me by the arm, placed the gun on the table and he and I went to the wood house where the glorious days of Christmas turned into a nightmare. If there had been such a thing as child abuse in those days, Papa would more than likely spent time in Atlanta as I felt abused. To get the story straight, the BB hurt, I am sure, but lucky for Mama and me, the BB hit a stave in her corset and just made a blister. I still donít know who the gun was given to. Yes, that was the worst Christmas I ever had.
In closing I must tell you about the greatest Christmas of all. It the
Christmas Season we are now celebrating. The Lord has been so good to us.
Let us always remember to keep CHRIST in Christmas. What a wonderful
climax for an old year.
Copyright © 2013 SamLindsey.com. All rights reserved.
Reproduction in whole or in part without permission is prohibited