Merry Christmas Everyone!
Well, it's that time again, another diary entry from my packhorse librarian, Lexie. The months slip by so quickly, especially this month with all of the Christmas preparations, entertaining, and parties.
My friend Sharon made a Christmas Ribbons quilt pattern this year. I love the large polka dot fabric and large stripe! Sharon will be enjoying her quilt on display for many years to come.
Chapter #4 Month #4
December 1935
Dear Grace,
It is frigid and icy on
these early December mornings when I get up around 4:30. I must wake you from a
deep slumber and get you ready to stay with Grandma Millie. Before we leave the
cabin, I try to bank the fire well enough to keep the chill off until we return.
By the time we get home, there are just a few embers remaining, just enough to get
a small fire going for warmth and light.
We cuddle up by the glow
of the fire, and I read you a story from a picture book. This is one of my favorite times of the day
and it keeps me going just knowing I’m coming home to you after my rounds. I’m
so thankful that Grandma Millie always has a pot of stew on the stove and a
biscuit ready for me no matter what time I get to her cabin to pick you up. Even
though I’m totally tuckered out, I devour the bowl of stew and biscuit that I’ve
completely covered with elderberry jam.
Since your daddy passed,
it is now up to me to haul the firewood to the cabin from the cords of wood
your daddy so neatly stacked to get us through the winter. I look at the
woodpile and know I’m going to have to spend a lot of time during good weather
to replenish it. The thought of sawing
trees down and splitting the wood sounds exhausting, but it will need to be
done on the days when I’m not working. I
never appreciated a single log of wood until now, and I thank your daddy every
day for keeping us warm. It’s as though he’s giving us a comforting, warm hug
and wrapping us in his love.
I’m so thankful for
Daniel who works at Leonardo’s Mill. He
brings over a wagon full of mill ends for Grandma Millie and me. The mill ends
are a perfect size to use as kindling and use in our wood burning stoves for
cooking. You love to sit on the floor and stack up a pile of mill ends and
squeal with delight when you knock them over. Your pile looks like the leaning
tower of Pisa before it topples to the ground.
I put you to bed and devote
a few minutes sitting by the fire, mesmerized by the flames licking the inside
of the fireplace. This is my time to think about my day, the people I met, my path
through the mountains, and the good the packhorse librarians are doing by
bringing literacy and companionship to the people in the hollers. I’m filled with gratitude for the opportunity
to help my own family with the dollar a day that I’m earning, but the cost of
my new job means less time for you, Grace.
There have been nights
when I’m so hypnotized by the flames, that I fall asleep by the fire and wake
up in the rocking chair with a stiff neck in the early morning hours and must
start a new day. I thought that dawn was a dream, but then reality set in, and
it was time to start my route all over again. This is the new route of my life
for which I am very thankful.
My mama tells me the only
way to work through my grief at the loss of your daddy is to help others in
need. I’m determined to blaze a trail
through the mountains and through my grief at the same time. So, I pack up my memories in the pillowcase
filled with books and head out into the hollows to bring a spark of light to
those in need.
Those McKevitt boys are
at the forefront of my mind, and they tug at my heartstrings. I stopped by last
week to pick up the Primers and Sears & Roebuck catalog I left with Mrs.
McKevitt and the boys, Harley, and Donny.
There was an extra glimmer of excitement in their faces when they told
me what they thought they were getting for Christmas…..an erector set. They said their daddy told them they could
make anything in the world they wanted with the gift they were going to receive.
They were sure it was an erector set, and in my heart, I knew their dream would
not be fulfilled.
After my visit to see the boys the week before and I heard about their desire to get an erector set, I headed over the see Mrs. Jerome Reginald Steiniger, the pearl-sucking prude, and asked if there was anyway, she could find the funds from the Ladies Aid Society to purchase an erector set for the boys. A look of concern washed across her face and was quickly replaced with a frown. Her frown was swapped with a look of sympathy as she gently told me there was too much poverty and need in the area to spend money on something as frivolous as an erector set to make two little boys happy.
I kissed you goodbye then
headed over to the packhorse librarian room at the back of the library to fill
my pillowcases with books and catalogs. I like to think I’m filling the
pillowcases with knowledge. I will be so
pleased when I have enough money to purchase a set of saddlebags, because I’m
afraid my pillowcases are going to deteriorate sooner rather than later. It
also concerns me that my Starkey is getting poked by the corners of the books.
Some new items were
available for me to choose from for the folks on my route. When I spied a Popular
Mechanics magazine, I knew Harley and Donny would love it as they were so
intent on learning how things work. Their poverty never put a damper on their thirst
for learning.
I found out that I have a
new stop along my route, Mr. and Mrs. Stoltz and their son Georgie. Everyone in
Cobble Hill (us locals call it Cob Hill because cobble sounds too much like
gobble) have always called Georgie ‘Little Georgie Stoltz’ even though he is now
forty-two. Little Georgie thinks there is an Indian behind every tree and carries
around a toy bow with a suction cup arrow. The family lives fairly close to
town, so they are the first stop on my route today.
Apparently, Georgie’s
birth was a tough one, and Old Doc Wood needed to use forceps to assist in the
delivery of a very reluctant and large baby. Little Georgie was never right in the head,
but he was very dear to his parents and everyone in town. The townspeople would
pretend to be injured and feign terrific pain when Little Georgie shot a
suction cup arrow at them. Little Georgie would collapse into gales of laughter
which was a welcome sound around town. When he was talking to you, he was
always pointing out the Indians behind the trees. We all played along with it and
Little Georgie would dart off in search of the elusive Indians.
I found a copy of Robinson
Crusoe while I was loading up my pillowcase and wondered if Little Georgie
would enjoy it if I read a chapter or two aloud. I am not sure he could sit
still long enough, but I think his parents would like to have the distraction of
their minds being carried off to a different world filled with adventure.
Starkey, my dog Blue, and
I headed off along the fence line up to those on my route. The first part of
the route is easy traveling, but fairly soon the fence line ends, and the game
trails begin, and up, up, up we travel. I enjoyed listening to the birds sing,
an avian chorus as my mama calls it. The squirrels dart about storing nuts in
anticipation of the harsh Winter. How do they remember where they store them?
Today is the Winter
Solstice, which changes the rhythm of life in the mountains. Livestock was slaughtered
so they did not have to be fed during the hard months of Winter. The meager
gardens will stop producing and fresh vegetables will not be on the table. Only
canned vegetables will be available for those who were able to put some away in
root cellars.
Soon I arrived at Little
Georgie Stoltz’s cabin. The rock foundation supporting the front porch is in need
of repair, as is the rest of the foundation.
Georgie met me on the front porch with bow and arrow in hand. I raised
both of my hands in the air in complete surrender and asked him not to shoot as
I didn’t want Starkey to get spooked. I felt that I only had time to read one
chapter of Robinson Crusoe, which they all enjoyed. Little Georgie was
able to keep still long enough before he ran off in search of Indians. I
told them I’d be back the week after Christmas and I’d try to make time to read
some more to them.
When I arrived at the
McKevitt’s I was surprised that the boys didn’t meet me outside. When Mrs. McKevitt
opened the door, I saw the boys over in the corner engaged in activity with
their one hand-carved truck made by their father. Mrs. McKevitt shared with me
the news that her husband had recovered from his injury at the mine and was
able to return to work, which was a godsend.
The boys were rather
sullen until I took out the Popular Mechanics magazine out of my
pillowcase for them. They quickly
abandoned their truck and laid right down on their stomachs in front of the
fireplace on the cold cabin floor so they could both look at the magazine at
the same time. They were very curious about an article on plumbing and asked me
to read it to them. I had to explain to them what plumbing was, and they were
amazed that people actually had an indoor outhouse! Harley asked me if there was a half-moon on
the door to let in the light. I didn’t have to worry that the pages of the
magazine would end up in their outhouse!
I told them I would be back right after Christmas to see them, which brought smiles to all of their faces. I think baby Stanley even smiled.
Our Christmas Eve dinner
was wonderful. We were so grateful when Old Doc Wood stopped by and gave us a rabbit
and a few potatoes the day before. His patients often paid him with food, and
he had more than he could use. Grandma Millie supplemented the fried rabbitt
with cooked turnips and carrots from the root cellar. We also had a delightful and
heavenly lemon meringue pie. What a treat and feast!
After dinner there was a knock at our door. We both
assumed it was a neighbor stopping by to swap howdies and wish us a Merry
Christmas. Much to my surprise, I saw Mrs. Jerome Reginald Steiniger’s ample bosom
staring at me in the face. She handed me a round container of Tinker Toys and
told me this was a more appropriate gift for boys their age, and I best get
over to the McKevitt boys first thing in the morning. I never had such happy
tears spring so quickly from my eyes. I wanted to hug her, but her bosom and
the container of Tinker Toys got in the way, and I didn’t think she would
accept a hug. This Christmas Eve is when I stopped calling Mrs. Jerome Reginal Steiniger
the pearl sucking prude.
I dressed quickly first
thing Christmas morning and rode over to the McKevitt’s with the Tinker Toys
safely packed in my pillowcase, The
Tinker Toys were wrapped in brown paper with a sprig of greenery on the top. I
also had two oranges for the family.
The boys were on the
floor of the cabin playing. They came running over to me and told me they didn’t
get an erector set for Christmas, but instead they got a box of chalk. They told me they could make anything with a
box of chalk just like their daddy told them! They were drawing all over the
cabin floor and complained to little baby Stanley when he crawled across their
pictures.
As the miners went down into the mine, using a piece
of chalk they put an ‘X’ by their name indicating they were in the mine. At the
end of the day, they erased the ‘X’. Mr.
McKevitt asked the paymaster if he could have the small bits of chalk leftover
at the end of the day. By the end of the week, the paymaster gave Mr. McKevitt
a handful of small bits and pieces of chalk.
I did not want to diminish the importance of the gift from
their parents, so I took them aside and told them what I had for the boys. Mr.
McKevitt said the boys could use the chalk to draw roads on the floor for the cars they could make with the Tinker Toys.
The look of amazement on their faces was priceless
when I opened the pillowcase and gave the boys their present. I told them Santa
had delivered the present to the wrong cabin. I was just the delivery person
without a sleigh and reindeer…..but I did have Starkey to lead the way. The
oranges weren’t a huge hit with the boys, but they were for their parents.
I rode away from their cabin with a full heart and
thinking 1936 is going to be filled with promise.
Merry Christmas everyone!
Soon,
Lynn
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