Family joy and sorrow

This was not a day like any other day,

The annual pilgrimage to reunite with cousins, Aunts, and Uncles was beginning this day.

The family piled all of their Christmas packages into the trunk of their 1948 Ford, piled three sisters, ages 4, 9, and 11, into the backseat, and headed out to the very rural Virginia homeplace of the momma of the McTraub family.

The drive would take about two and one half hours so the girls kept busy reading their favorite books out loud, coloring in coloring books, counting cars, and talking, talking, talking about important things. Things like: ‘I wonder if Santa Claus will find us at Aunt Dottie’s house’; or, ‘I wonder if I am getting ….’ and the voices trailed off as they giggled and laughed out loud about the silliest things.

Family joy and sorrow would long be remembered after this holiday.

It was late afternoon by the time the the travelers pulled off the main highway onto the long, winding road which lead to the home place. The horn sounded to let everyone know we were there. Everyone rushed out to greet us. Hugging, kissing, and laughing filled the air. The three girls anticipated with great excitement this reunion every year.This home was special to them. It had been the home of their Grandmother, Grandfather, their Mother, and their aunts and uncle, too.

It was a rambling three story house with bedrooms tucked here and there in unexpected corners as if to surprise those who visited.There was a very spacious living room with comfy chairs and couches. It was cozy and inviting but it was the second most favorite spot in the house. The kitchen was number one!

Most everyone crowded into the kitchen and one point or another for a slice of apple or a sip of mulled cider. The aromas meandered throughout the home place inviting, beckoning even, to all to come and investigate.

The children who had journeyed to this place were now in liege with their cousins so six of them were running, squealing, playing, and overflowing with the fun of it all.

The evening meal was simple but filling. Bowls of chicken soup, soup that had simmered all day on the back burner, were ladled into gray ceramic bowls at the dinner table. This was real chicken soup filled with planks of chicken, carrots, potatoes, and celery swimming in the broth only simmering all day could create. Each bowl was served with freshly made rolls. Those rolls. Divine. Usually there were far fewer rolls for the meal than had been planned as each time a child had scurried through the kitchen another, freshly baked, steaming hot roll disappeared.

After the meal, leftover foods were stored. Dishes were cleared and washed. The sisters remained in the kitchen to prepare apple, pumpkin, and mincemeat pie and more rolls for the meal on the following afternoon. Christmas Day.

All of the children gathered in the living room where a freshly cut Scotch pine occupied a space befitting such a regal tree. It seemed so tall it could touch the sky and probably was very tall as the ceilings were very high in that house. Children would adorn the family tree with tinsel, popcorn, and a multitude of glass ornaments that had been in their family for many years.

Every child eagerly awaited the first step in the decorating ceremony. Stringing popcorn was the one part of the ceremony that was the most fun of all. Blunt end needles had been purchased so that no little fingers were precipitously stuck rather than a piece of corn. And when a piece broke, it was not wasted. The one nearest that piece gladly retrieved it and chomped away. The youngest child, who was only four, was not left out. She got the ‘important’ job of bringing more corn in from the kitchen to the dining room table where the ‘stringers’ were working. She also was able to retrieve fallen pieces of corn to munch on while she watched her sisters and cousins busily making these strands of ‘snow’ to decorate the tree.

Once all of the stringing was complete, a ladder was situated just so and the tallest cousin carefully ascended it and began to wind the strands around and through each branch. As soon as he was down low enough where others could reach the branches, the ladder was removed, and everyone took a turn placing some part of that garland on the branches.

‘Ooohs’ and ‘aaahhhs’ resounded. Children ran to the kitchen to invite the Grownups to come see this work of art!!! Wiping hands on aprons, the sisters would come; the uncles would come from another room where they had been smoking cigars, reading, and occasionally chatting.

One child slipped away from us...

One of the little girls had disappeared for a while. It took a little while for the others to notice with all of the excitement that surrounded the decorating of the tree. When they did find she was not right there, they were not really too concerned. She would often wander off to see what the Grownups were doing.

When it was found she was not with them either, everyone began to look in earnest for the missing nine year old girl. After an exhaustive search, her Mother thought to look in a bedroom. And there she was, laying face down on a bed, sobbing.

When her Mother asked her what was wrong, she said: “I went to the bathroom, and I dropped the toilet paper in the toilet!” and she burst into a new, heart wrenching round of sobs. Her Mother told her it was ok. That everyone had accident sometimes. And nothing more was said of it.

The little one who had been missing rejoined the others. It was time to bring out the ornaments that would be placed on the trees. First though the Grown ups wound the strands of colored lights around the branches. One set was the set most of the children anticipated the most. This strand had candle- shaped lights which were filled with liquid. And when they were plugged in tiny bubbles would appear inside of them.

Each year, at the end of the holidays, the ornaments were wrapped carefully in tissue paper and tucked in boxes until the next December. Time now to free them from the boxes. Each child took a turn hanging shiny fragile balls on the branches. The older children could reach the high branches so by the time all of the boxes were emptied, no branches had been missed.

Each child was given a nylon stocking to hang on the mantle. They would be removed the next morning before the fireplace was used.

One last look at the tree as a family gathering and then children were shooed upstairs to get ready for bed. It had been a full day but excitement still filled the air.

Santa Claus would be coming soon.

As the children tiptoed down the staircase to the living room, they craned their necks to see what was under their tree. Ignoring invitations to come to breakfast all six of them detoured to sneak a peek .The children gathered around the tree; not a word was spoken. Under the lowest branches placed on a crisp white sheet were gifts for each child. The children strained their necks to see whose name was on which package. They were bursting with excitement but they knew no packages would be opened until after breakfast was eaten.

The only voices that could be heard at the breakfast table that morning were those of the Grown ups. The children were nervously trying to make it appear their food was disappearing by pushing it around their plates with their forks. The only thing on any child’s mind that morning was in the living room under the tree.

After what seemed like an endless meal, dishes were cleared, and everyone gathered around the tree to receive a gift.

Stockings aplenty

Each child was handed a nylon stocking that was hung the night before. Each of them we now bulging as they were stuffed full of goodies. Inside each stocking could be found: an orange, an apple, hard candy, a handful of nuts in shells, a pair of socks, a hair barrette, a tiny coloring book, a small box of crayons, jacks, and a peppermint stick.

Other gifts were now passed out and many ‘just what I wanteds’ could be heard. Many of the gifts were handmade clothing: a scarf, a sweater, an afghan, or a dress, a cap, or shirt for the fellas.

Eventually the family dispersed to do whatever they wanted or needed to do. The Grown Ups were busy preparing the Christmas dinner for the afternoon. The children decided to venture outside to chase around and run and scream.

'Hello, Cow'

One of the little children crawled through the barbed wire fence to get a better look at the cow she saw. The other children were running around, chasing and shouting, generally having so much they did not notice the little girl had wandered off.

She strayed farther and farther inside of the fence calling, ‘Hey, Cow. Come here, Cow, so I can pet you.’ Closer and closer she moved. The Cow noticed her now. And, the Cow decided it did not want to share the pasture with the little girl.

It scraped at the ground and shook its head furiously and moved with a gallop toward the little girl. By this time, the others noticed where she was and that she was in trouble.

‘Run, run,’ they shouted to her as they rushed to the fence and tumbled through the barbed wire to rescue her. She did run as fast as her little legs would carry her right into the arms of her sister. Her sister literally threw her between the strands of barbed wire to safety. Just a s quickly, she made her way through right behind her.

Just in time. The cow was not a cow. It was a bull. A bull who was not feeling the whole Christmas spirit thing. He did not wish to share his pasture with anyone!!

The children fussed at the little girl for a bit as they had all been told many times to stay out of the pasture. They were fussing at her because they knew she had been in real danger and did not want her to go inside the pasture again, ever.

After chasing each other around the property a few thousand more times, checking the hen houses for fresh eggs, and becoming totally frozen from trying to make snowballs out of the light dusting of snow that had fallen overnight, it was time to go inside to thaw out hands and feet.

The afternoon passed quickly. The children had been enlisted to set the dining room table which had been covered with the stark white, crocheted table cloth their Great Grandmother had made many years ago.

More than enough food was brought to the table. Roast beef, Virginia ham, baked chicken, candied yams, green beans, lima beans, mountains of mashed potatoes, country gravy, biscuits, and those melt-in-your mouth rolls. But, no one really remembers what was served because it was not about the food this meal. It was having this time, once again, to be together to re-energize spirits, catch up on family happenings, share time and space with no schedule, no other place to be. It happened this way once a year. That was food for the soul.

The next morning, almost before the rooster crowded, the three little sisters crawled into the back seat of their car and headed home. On the way home, there was not so much laughing and chatting. The girls were filled to overflowing with the fun of the last few days.

Several weeks after that, the little nine year old girl, Mary Jane, celebrated her birthday. The children in her class had been invited to her birthday party. Children were outside playing. Her Mother was serving finger sandwiches to them when she noticed the 'guest of honor' was no where around. She asked the children if they knew where she was and no one seemed to know. She called and called and looked and looked. Still no Mary Jane.

Something told her mother to look for her in the front bedroom that she shared with her sister. And, even though she thought she may be in her room, she was somewhat surprised when that was where she found her. There she was...In bed. She quickly moved over to the little dark-haired child.

'Honey, why are you in bed in the middle of your party?'

And, the little girl, with the beautiful,brown, doe eyes, looked up at her and said, "O, Momma, I have such a headache. Can I just lay her for a little while?"

So, her Mother went back to the party. Mary Jane did not.

That was the last birthday the little girl would celebrate on this planet. Just a few short weeks later, her Mother took her to the doctor with another headache. The doctor sent her to the hospital.She had a brain tumor. Surgery was performed but it made no difference.

Precious little Mary Jane was buried in a stark white satin dress that her Mother had sewn for her. As she made that dress, each stitch increased the sadness she felt but it was a task she must complete.

She looked like an angel as her tiny body lay there in the coffin, her chestnut brown hair gently arranged beside her cheeks. Her baby sister was held by her Daddy. And, she was not sad, not afraid. Her sister looked like she was sleeping Her Daddy told her he would not be coming home, 'She has gone to be with the other angels,' he whispered to her

Her Mother was deeply saddened as a.ny mother would be. She was more so than most because she felt she should have known. She should have realized when the little girl dropped the toilet paper at Christmas time; when she had a headache at her birthday party...she should have known...She was never the same after that. A little bit of her died that day too.

Some relief came to her several weeks later. The family doctor called her. He told her it would have made no difference if she had told a doctor about the headache or the dropping or any of it. Nothing would have changed the outcome. He just wanted her to know.

Christmas in the country that year would be one all would remember. Each one would remember how much fun they had laughing, playing, sharing, and celebrating. Some learned something a little deeper than that....some learned this...do not miss T O D A Y .Each Christmas after that they hugged a little longer and spoke a little kinder.

Read more about this family's journeys...

• Two Sisters
• The Years Slipped Away
• Do you know the Angels?
• Blessed

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