Today’s post is an excerpt from the book, A Time For Every Purpose written by Barbara Taylor Woodall.
The first sign of Christmas a’comin’ in our Rabun Gap mountain home was Mama opening a big can of Johnson’s paste wax to smear all over the plank floors, then waiting for my brother and me to get home from school. The smell of wax ensured the house would turn into a fun skating rink. Our skates were thick wool socks knitted by Granny Lou. We slipped, slid, giggled, and wiggled for hours, polishing the floors. That was the first shine of the season.
About two week before Christmas Eve, my brother and I gathered up brown tow sacks and a double bitted ax and began a journey by foot three miles away to Littleton Cove where a grove of cedar trees grew. We wrapped up in scarves and coats and pulled tattered toboggans over our ears to cross fields and dales cold and white. Heavy frost looked like a young snow and sparkled like diamonds in the golden sunlight. The frozen forest bed crunched like walking on dry corn shucks. When we stopped to rest, the only sound was our deep breaths mixed with cold air and formed steam. All nature seemed to stand still in a holy hush that could not be described with words, only felt deep within.
Straddling an old fence, we journeyed onward with the hope of finding red and green Christmas treasures to fill our sacks. In the distance, faint glimpses of red holly berries and green branches encouraged us in our quest. Soon our sacks began to bulge as we stuffed nature’s treasures inside. We paused a moment, playing with holly leaves that were easily turned into toys when held between the thumb and forefinger. We blew hard breaths on them, creating entertaining flutter mills.
Once a tree was located, Ernest made me bend the tree over while he swung the ax. He knew the jarring of the cedar tree would cause its limbs to scratch me like cat claws, so he chopped a while and laughed a while as an eternity seemed to pass before it finally fell to the ground. Our sacks loaded with burrs, berries and boughs, and the tree in tow, we started home.
Mama tied two colored ropes across the porch to display our collections of decorations. Inside she twisted green pine branches with colorful Galax leaves into pretty wreaths to scent the house. As she worked, she sang Christmas songs. One was about a star of hope and rest that guided the wise men on their way to find Jesus. She said, “The Bible says when they entered into the house they saw the young child first, and all the rest second. I wished I had seen Him first instead of a bunch of religion.” She told of precious gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh that lay before Him.
At night, we busied ourselves talking about Christmas and making colorful chains from strips cut out of the Sears and Roebuck catalogue. The links were held together with glue made from flour and water. Collected chestnut burrs and pinecones were rolled in the remaining mixture to turn them into white balls for the tree.
Ernest cracked black walnuts with a hammer, and then picked out the meat by the light of the fireplace for Christmas goodies while I cut paper snowflakes to hang on the windowpanes. Moonbeams shown through the paper holes, creating golden patterns on the walls adding to Christmas magic. Prince Albert tobacco cans were cut in strips and used for icicles, and silver stars were shaped out of foil from old cigarette pack linings. Stars reminded me of the one seen by the wise men. Dad said, “You have to be wise to know where to look in the heavens.”
After the tree was tied to a corner wall, it was ready for us to begin hanging the decorations. meanwhile, sweet smells filtered from the kitchen to make us more anxious for Christmas to come. On Christmas Eve, Dad took the Bible off the mantel after supper and read the old story about baby Jesus lying in a manger. He said the bread of life was put in a feeding trough to feed the world, and especially on Christmas Eve when the cattle in the barn got down on their knees in remembrance. Our eyes widened with amazement, and Ernest said, “Let’s go see!” He lit the lantern and we took off towards the barn in the cold night to peek through wide cracks. sure enough, the cows were lying down in the soft hay.
When we returned to the crackling warm fire inside the house, sister Bea, a first grader, was hanging three wool socks above the fireplace and singing a song she learned in class: “What can I give Him, poor as I am? If I were a shepherd, I’d give Him a lamb. If I were a wise man, I’d do my part; yet what can I give Him, I’ll give Him my heart.” dad said, “Let’s act like the cattle and kneel down; let’s offer our hearts too.” Simple prayers mixed with the sweet smells from the kitchen ascended upward. Christmas Eve in the calm, silent mountains on Kelly’s Creek ended.
The next day, three excited young’uns jumped up early to see what Santa Claus brought. Our socks were filled with stick candy, rag dolls, slingshots, crow calls, whistles, apples, oranges, and a few funny looking nuts. Finally, Mama said, “Run to the woodshed! I heard a rustle out there and th’ dog raised cain all night. Santa Claus might have stopped there.” Sure enough, he did, and he left a red wagon with sideboards and two store bought dolls. Christmas dawn was just breaking over the blue-hazed mountains. Ernest pulled his wagon inside near the fire. He put his pillow in the wagon, climbed in and fell asleep. This is one memory I will continue to unwrap year after year in my heart.
I hope you enjoyed Barbara’s wonderful memories as much as I do!
Last night’s video: Fried DeerTenderloin, Pickled Beans & Corn, Fried Taters with Ramps, and Biscuits = Best Supper!
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I agree this was a very sweet story of a simpler time. My memories of the first indications of the coming Christmas was created by our neighbor Lillian Merrifield. Every year she would have me over to create Christmas decorations. She would save scraps of colored and foiled paper and small milk cartons of different sizes and the two of us would spend hours turning those milk cartons into little houses for a Christmas village. She would keep half and I would get the other half to put under our tree. We would also make tree ornaments with paint and the scraps of colored paper. I would also help her hang all those decorations in her living room which by the time we were done would look to a small boy as beautiful as the Sistine Chapel.
And Debbie’s post reminded me of a wonderful Christmas memory. Our small town’s volunteer fire department always had a Christmas party with a visit from Santa and for each child a brown bag with an orange, an apple and candy including chocolate drops. To this day the smell of orange and chocolate always brings me instantly back to those community Christmas parties and a visit with Santa.
I truly enjoyed today’s chapter! My hubby and daughter and I moved from Florida to Linden, TN in 1981, at Christmas we were as poor as church mice but oh we were happy! We had purchased 35 acres in the middle of a tree farm, hundreds of acres of tree farm. Two weeks before Christmas we walked through our woods and cut a 4′ pine tree. our girl was 8 and we cut paper strips and made garland for the tree. we cut thin strips of aluminum foil and made ice cycles. We popped popcorn and strung yards of it, we had no electricity ,by choice, and so in the evening after supper was finished we would put our lantern in front of the tree and it would sparkle and shine. Harold got up Christmas morning and using cast off wood scraps from our work place, all day built a beautiful cradle and a desk. Cristi would say , Daddy what you doing? His answer was, something to make you ask questions! Cristi was 8. We had saved enough S&H stamps and was able to get her a doll. Can you imagine her surprise when he did the final assembly? She cried in delight and we cried in thankfulness! The BEST Christmas ever! Your stories always remind me of just how blessed we all are! Thank you Tipper! God bless you and yours❤❤
I got out and collected more greenery and red berries to deck the house and porch with this year. My granddaughter is coming over to help me do this and I am looking forward to doing that. When I was younger I’d go deeper into the woods but since I’m older now I have found plenty of greenery around the yard. We have to make do with what we have to make do with. That’s the Appalachian way, use what you’ve got and do the best you can. There is real beauty in the simple things in life. God Supplies. I see it over and over again and again.
I love Christmas! Thank you for sharing this lovely Christmas memory from long ago. I loved it!
The part that touched me was the description of the “gathering of the green”. One of my special memories was time spent with a relative in the weeks leading up to Christmas. I live on my family’s original homestead/dairy farm & am named after my Great Aunt (Pat). She was called to be a nun, as a young woman, and had to move away from her family & create a new family of sisters. Every year, shortly after Thanksgiving, she would make a trip back to the farm to visit her bachelor brother. He was still farming while we lived in the house. We would get so excited for her visit. She would take us with her out into the little piece of woods and we would help her pick princess pines. The greenery would be taken back by Sister Christopher, to the convent to make wreaths. They are all long gone now – grandparents, great aunts & great uncles….but thinking about them takes me back to my childhood. Now we try to make time to help my adopted father in law make swags & wreaths (but it gets harder & harder as the kids get older, to find the time. I hate that life has become this). He tells about times after Thanksgiving, back in the 50s. For a few weeks before Thxgiving, his grandfather would collect greenery and store it in deep piles in the cellar. After all the dishes were cleared away, the greenery would get dragged upstairs & the entire family would set to work, making wreaths, swags, & garland. His grandfather would take the finished products around a little nearby city with his truck & hawk his wares. This went on for several weeks. Everyone pitched in, for if they didn’t there was no money to be had to buy Xmas presents. Personally, I think they got the present that was the most special of all….time spent laughing, joking, and making something beautiful together – memories. We have tried to make swags with him (he has had a stroke & struggles to find purpose) but once again we’ve ended up sick the week we were supposed to do it. This will be the 2nd year that has happened. I wish life would slow down. I don’t want to be on the run all the time. I want to be able to enjoy simple pleasures with out all the stress. I want the quiet walk in the woods with my relative who had given her life up to God’s call. I want the family around the table joking & working with their hands & hearts to make Christmas beautiful.
That brought tears to my eyes. Thank you.
The old Christmas traditions really touch my heart. It’s like it was more real then.
Oh my goodness, what a moving story. You can just see the tree and decorations in your mind and that boy sleeping in the wagon. In this day of so many presents, and so much electronics, it is important to remember the old days and old ways and simple love of family and simple holiday traditions. I hope everyone gets to remember good times and make new good memories this year. Thanks for sharing Tipper, I really appreciate what you do.
The excerpt from “ A Time for Every Purpose” caused me to ponder Christmas memories from my childhood.
These stirrings also brought back times when I too went scavenging for greenery in the woods behind my grandparents farm in Madrid, AL. My grandmother would play Christmas songs on her old upright piano and I would sing along with her. As we sang, the now unheard of style Christmas tree lights that held mock candles of liquid that bubbled when the lights warmed brightened the tiny sitting room with every color in the rainbow. Oh, what wonderful memories of Christmas I had as a child!
Thank you for this site. I also watch all your Utube videos. Keep up the good work you warm an old ladies heart ever day.
Kay Lane Dothan , AL
Thanks for old memories • a simpler time, indeed, Tipper!
Thank you for this beautiful, heartfelt story! I miss the simpler times. Have a blessed day everyone!!
Love the story! Reminded me of when I was a child . We did home made things to put on our Christmas tree! In my minds eye I can see mom and dad and us kids having so much fun! Our mom would cut out paper dolls for us and snowflakes and other things for us to play with! And we made popcorn chains! I can almost smell the popcorn now! Precious memories!!
The story brings back memories of a lot simpler (dare I say) happier time. Mother had a few store bought decorations to put on cedar tree cut in a field on our land. I knew of a holy tree with the red berries that I like to break some limbs off of and use for decoration. I would also shoot some mistletoe out of a tree to also use for decoration. I always loved the smell of a cedar tree, even now the smell reminds me of Christmas. This year without my wife I have not done any decorating or put up any type of tree. She got so much enjoyment out of doing this. None of us no longer have the heart to do it.
Randy, thanks for sharing about shooting the mistletoe out of a tree. That was what I look forward to the most when my brother and I were at home. I couldn’t wait for him to bring some back home. I still see some in trees around and it makes me think of him. We had a holly tree with red berries and mama would break some off and put on our mantle each year. I’m so sorry about your wife. Prayers being sent your way. Holidays can be really hard to get through, but I pray the Lord will give you strength.
Beautiful story! If only we could all see Him first!
We never had much of an abundant Christmas as children but we all enjoyed the excitement of the season. Daddy had a huge family and all met at Grannie’s for Christmas dinner. It was a pot luck with Granny also cooking while she was still able. The best dressing and coconut cake ever!
Mama was also a champion dressing maker and everyone was eager to get their fair share. Unfortunately we had family problems between some that made everyone be on edge.
My husband’s mother also had a gathering at her home at Christmas and at Easter. She was always happy cooking and being with family. She was a wonderful cook. I never saw or heard her complain even though she must have been exhausted by the end of the day. We lost her this year but really she had been gone from us from just before the pandemic.
Christmas is so different now as so many of the older ones are gone & family had dwindled down to just a few. I do get a lot of joy from shopping for my son and his girlfriend whom I have spoiled into needing a giant stocking filled. Her mom is disabled and can’t do much of anything so I always want her to feel cherished here.
I love that story. My daddy grew up in that area too. His family lived on Warwoman. Sounds like a great book!
Beautiful story. Thanks for sharing!
It’s funny how one sentence from a story you get fully immersed in can transport you back to something you hadn’t thought about in years. For me this morning, it was…
“Ernest cracked black walnuts with a hammer, and then picked out the meat by the light of the fireplace…”
My grandpa gathered black walnuts and always had some sitting in a wooden box near the fireplace he had in his basement. There was always an old claw hammer sitting there too used to crack them open. Today, my first thought when cracking a walnut is, where’s the hammer? By the way, grandpa’s name was Ernest.
I’m sure as others read the story, they enjoyed their own recollections.
Thanks for sharing.
My grandparents did not have a fireplace but a large coal heater in the room they mostly stayed in during the winter. Granddaddy would sit on one side of heater in a rocking chair and crack black walnuts with an old claw hammer while grandmother would sit on the other side and pick the meat out in the winter time. They never owned a TV.
My Daddy sat beside our old wood heater and cracked walnuts. He used a claw hammer too. He held an old cast iron smoothing iron between his knees, held a walnut on it and tapped it until it cracked. He didn’t send pieces flying like I do when I crack them. Occasionally a piece would escape and hide from us. It wouldn’t reappear until someone came through barefooted.
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Daddy cracked enough that he sold some. If I remember correctly he put the ones he sold in pint jars. I don’t remember how much he got for a jar but it wasn’t enough.
My granddad cracked black walnuts on his shoe last. He repaired family members’ shoes on it during WW II. I don’t know which of my dad’s siblings inherited the last. It wasn’t my dad.
Another wonderful walk down memory lane.
Thoroughly enjoyed this story.
What a sweet story of a much simpler Christmas (and life) than we live today. Thank you for sharing that.
a beautiful story. loved the part about sleeping in the red wagon. one of my sons did the same thing when Santa brought him one for Christmas. I treasure the photo.
How can I add comment to a beautiful story of Christmas and just what it truly means. I will be honest, the tears of joy welled up ,Tipper, and I just loved this beautiful tale of a Christmas past. When I think of being poor, I think it’s a mind set. I feel rich when I look at what nature has to share, show and give us concerning Our God and all the good things flowing from Him to us! I too would like to have seen Jesus before religion got a hold of the greatest story ever told! I’m a believer in SMALL church service in the small home with several families sharing The Word. Prosperity Gospel is all I see from mega churches. (It ain’t all fun being a Christian and it ain’t easy.) Somebody’s lying to fill the till..
A former pastor characterized “Prosperity Gospel” as “Make Jesus your choice and drive a Rolls-Royce.” Made me laugh. We got his point.
Precious in every way. Lovely read.
Thanks Tipper
Thank you for taking me back to a simpler time! That was a beautifully written story. God Bless each and every one this Christmas season.
“ I wished I had seen Him first instead of a bunch of religion.”. Amen.
Truly this family understood the true meaning of Christmas and tucked it into their hearts to last each one’s lifetime.
Absolutely beautiful!!!!
What a lovely Christmas memory! It’s too bad that everything has changed so much. People really have no idea what they are missing in the simpler things of life.
Beautiful story full of Christmas blessings!! Thank you for sharing, Tipper!!
Am thinking that the ‘celebration of Christmas’ is the high point of this time of year. In our hemisphere, it can turn so cold and bitter but all the wonderful memories we make as children can warm us for decades.
Without much worldly wealth, creative parents can bestow so much value that no amount of money could ever purchase. And to teach that we might not have all we want, but actually have all we need.
There are folks who might awake one morning and those memories are gone…what despair they’d feel if they knew what they lost.
That’s why as a child I was overjoyed to learn to read & write knowing I could refresh my memories…esp. of Christmas.
What a sweet story!
My Mom used to have us boys slide in the floor to polish it. Had not thought if that in a long time.
Barbara’s childhood Christmas was somewhat like ours. Us two boys collected Christmas greenery from the woods behind the house; holly and hemlock mostly. I don’t recall making foil stars though or snowflake cutouts. Her family was more inventive.
I thought I heard a rustle in my wood shed but it turned out to be a Russell who wouldn’t leave. I thought to call 911 but what was that. Besides I didn’t have a phone and neither did the sheriff. I enlisted the aid of one Mr. Harrington and his friend Mr. Richardson who were living in the main house at the time. A word or two from each of them convinced Mr. Russell that staying elsewhere might be a better option.
Wonderful story, I could see everything happening in my mind’s eye!
What a beautiful, from the heart, Christmas and family. Ms. Woodall was blessed to have such very wise parents.
Once again, a wonderful read. Thanks
What a beautiful story. I could almost smell the pine that Mom twisted into wreaths and hear the songs they were singing. Happy Birthday Jesus ♡
A beautiful trip down memory lane!
precious story!
I remember Momma talking about saving chewing gum wrappers people would give them and at Christmas they would wrap Sycamore balls in the silver wrappers. They never had a store bought gift, but did have an apple, orange, and if lucky a chocolate drop candy in their sock. It’s hard to imagine being so poor, but Momma never complained and believed our riches are not in things, but the love we share because of Jesus. I agree, she was one of the richest people I have ever known. She passed a year ago today and I miss her so!
Love this story!