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Christmas in Morocco, c.1950

Dec5

The Secret of the Fourth Candle by Patricia St. John.

Aisha looked awestruck at the candles and then back at the presents . . . She knew at last why the little girl lit one more candle every week. It was in honor of a Baby called Jesus who was coming next week, and then all the candles would burn and the whole room would be white and radiant and the Baby would laugh and crow. She had never heard of Jesus before, for she was a Muslim girl, but she felt sure He must be a very important Baby to have the candles lit especially for His coming. And all those presents, too! She supposed they were all for Him and she wondered what was inside them—lovely little garments perhaps, and toys and colored shoes. She wanted to see Him more than she had ever wanted to see anything else in the world.

Patricia St. John spent over twenty-five years in North Africa and the Middle East as a missionary teacher and nurse. She wrote several books for children, both fiction and nonfiction, as well as an autobiography that Jan Bloom recommends in her book, Who Then Should We Read? I would absolutely love to have a copy of Ms. St. John’s autobiography, AN Ordinary Woman’s Extraordinary Faith. However, I will content myself with the children’s novels and stories that I do have in my library, including The Secret of the Fourth Candle, a Christmas story about a Muslim girl who discovers the true, true meaning of Christmas.

Other books by Patricia St. John in my library:

The Secret at Pheasant Cottage
Rainbow Garden
Star of Light
Tanglewoods’ Secret
Three Go Searching
Treasures of the Snow

Christmas in Maine, 1858

Dec4

Earmuffs for Everyone! How Chester Greenwood Became Known as the Inventor of Earmuffs by Meghan McCarthy.

Chester Greenwood was born on December 4, 1858. He allegedly had large, cold ears and invented earmuffs to protect those ears at the age of 15. Well, according to author Meghan McCarthy, Chester at least improved the idea of earmuffs and got a patent for his new, improved earmuffs.

Ms. McCarthy’s illustrations are not my style, bug-eyed people with big heads and little beady pupils. But others might find the cartoonish people set in simple scenes to be just right. To each his own.

I do think Ms. McCarthy does a good job of telling Chester Greenwood’s story, the story of an inventor and an entrepreneur who didn’t “change the world” but did make his own small mark on it. In 1977, the Maine legislature declared Dec. 21 (the first day of winter) as Chester Greenwood Day.

Christmas in an English village, 1974

Dec2

The Christmas Mouse: A Story by Miss Read.

“The Christmas tree, dressed the night before by Jane and Frances—with many squeals of delight—stood on the side table. This table, spangled with stars and tinsel, displayed the Victorian fairy doll, three inches high, which had once adorned the Christmas trees of Mrs. Berry’s childhood. The doll’s tiny wax face was brown with age but still bore that sweet expression which the child had imagined was an angel’s. Sprigs of holly were tucked behind the picture frames, and a spray of mistletoe hung where the oil lamp had once swung from the central beam over the dining table.

Mrs. Berry leaned back in her chair and surveyed it all with satisfaction. It looked splendid and there was very little more to be done to the preparations in the kitchen. The turkey was stuffed, the potatoes peeled. The Christmas pudding had been made in November and stood ready on the shelf to be plunged into the steamer tomorrow morning. Mince pies waited in the tin, and a splendid Christmas cake, iced and decorated by Mrs. Berry herself, would grace the table tomorrow.”

Dora Saint, aka Miss Read, was a former schoolteacher who wrote novels of English country life, set in the fictional villages of Thrush Green and Fairacre. Village School, her first novel, was published in 1955, and Miss Read continued to write, with more than thirty books published, until her retirement in 1996. Miss Read/Dora Saint died in 2012.

The Christmas Mouse is a 172 page Christmas novelette set in the nearby village of Shepherd’s Cross. It is also available as one of three stories in the book, Christmas at Fairacre. The Miss Read stories and novels are a perfect fit for the Jan Karon fans, among I number myself and many of my friends, especially those who are also Anglophiles. Miss Read writes gentle tales of small town people going about their daily business with grace and dignity.

In this Christmas story, Mrs. Berry and her daughter Mary, both widowed, are preparing for Christmas with Mary’s two young daughters, Jane and Frances. There is a spiritual component to the story, as Mrs. Berry prays and hopes for Mary’s recovery from the tragic loss of her husband, Bertie, in an automobile accident. As the little family receives two unexpected “guests” on Christmas Eve, and an unexpected invitation, Mary begins to open her heart to wonder and even joy.

The theme of this story can be summed up in these words from Mother Teresa: “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.”

It’s a good truth to be reminded of at Christmas time.

Poetry Friday: Jesus Christ, the Apple Tree

Nov6

Apple Tree by Z-babyThe tree of life my soul hath seen,
Laden with fruit and always green: (x2)
The trees of nature fruitless be
Compared with Christ the apple tree.

His beauty doth all things excel:
By faith I know, but ne’er can tell (x2)

The glory which I now can see
In Jesus Christ the apple tree.

For happiness I long have sought,
And pleasure dearly I have bought: (x2)
I missed of all; but now I see
Tis found in Christ the apple tree.

I’m weary with my former toil,
Here I will sit and rest awhile: (x2)
Under the shadow I will be,
Of Jesus Christ the apple tree.

This fruit doth make my soul to thrive,
It keeps my dying faith alive; (x2)
Which makes my soul in haste to be
With Jesus Christ the apple tree.

I found several choral versions of this song, a poem/carol by an anonymous eighteenth century poet set to music by Elizabeth Poston. But I rather liked this solo rendition by Lee Farrar Bailey.

I’m thankful today for the rest I find in Christ the Apple Tree.

2014 Christmas Memories

Dec31

This Christmas was the Christmas of the Meat Cleaver. No, the cleaver was not a gift. Rather, Karate Kid, my seventeen year old son, used a Meat Cleaver to cut the tape and ribbons on his presents. His sisters punctuated the gift-opening session with exclamations of “Be careful!” and “Where is the meat cleaver?” and “Don’t step on the meat cleaver!” I wish I had a recording.

England 2010 from Flickr via Wylio

© 2010 David, Flickr | CC-BY | via Wylio

The gifts most in use two days after Christmas: GoogleChrome, a device which allows us to “cast” a spell on our television and tell it to play movies from the computer or smartphone, and Rosetta Stone Polish, a computer program that is teaching three of my daughters to speak Polish. They can now say things like “napady dziewczyna samochodaw” and “kocham cia, mamo”. ???? I have no idea.

It’s been a Crafty Christmas for a couple of the daughters as they giggled and glued their way to several Christmas gifts and stocking stuffers of beauty and utility.

The songs of this Christmas: All I Want for Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth, Joy to the World by Charles Wesley and Angels Strain to See by David Jackson.

pecan pie from Flickr via Wylio

© 2004 tracy ducasse, Flickr | CC-BY | via Wylio

It’s been a Christmas season for pies, lots of pies: pumpkin, cherry, apple, pecan and chess, to name a few.

The books we asked for and received for Christmas were many and varied:
For Engineer Husband, The Canon of the New Testament by Bruce Metzger and The Astronomical Companion by Guy Ottewell.
Computer Guru Son wanted and received a “nice copy” of Godel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid by Douglas R. Hofstadter.
Belzhar by Meg Wolitzer, The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt, and Dear Elizabeth: A Play in Letters from Elizabeth Bishop to Robert Lowell and Back Again by Sarah Ruhl for Drama Daughter.
A Greek New Testament for Brown Bear Daughter who’s studying Greek in college.
For Dancer Daughter, Seven Days That Divide the World: The Beginning According to Genesis and Science by John C. Lennox, and a slew of Agatha Christie paperbacks so that she can start her own collection.
Homesick Texan Cookbook for Eldest Daughter, who loves to cook and follows recipes carefully. And a French dictionary.
For Betsy Bee who is a Shannon Hale fan, River Secrets and Book of a Thousand Days.
Z-baby received and is reading This Star Won’t Go Out: The Life and Words of Esther Grace Earl, a book about the girl who inspired John Green’s Hazel character in The Fault in our Stars.
And for me, a plethora of treasures including The Last Lion: Winston Spencer Churchill: Defender of the Realm, 1940-1965 by William Manchester, Fierce Convictions: The Extraordinary Life of Hannah More by Karen Swallow Prior, Pied Piper by Nevil Shute, The Dean’s Watch by Elizabeth Goudge, Somewhere Safe with Somebody Good by Jan Karon, and more.
No books were damaged or even opened by Karate Kid with the Meat Cleaver.

We’re back in our own home this Christmas, and all eight children are here for Christmas and for New Year’s Day. But we missed having my mom here since she’s gone on an extended visit to my sister’s home in Tennessee.

It’s been a Christmas to remember and savor. My children are growing up, not really children any more, and I treasure quiet times when we are all sitting around reading our books or watching White Christmas once more together or louder times of discussing our collective memories of Adventures in Odyssey or Sesame Street.

It was the Christmas of “carpe diem” (seize the day), but even more of “Carpe Deum” (Seize God), my prayer for all of us as we walk, dance, march, and run into 2015, meat cleaver safely put way for next Christmas.

Christmas in Virginia, 1864

Dec19

From Charlie Skedaddle by Patricia Beatty:

“Charley volunteered, ‘On Christmas Day at home we go to Mass and then give each other presents. After that we o visiting people we know, and we always have a real fine Christmas dinner when we can afford to have one, roast goose or roast beef.’

‘Do tell! All those goings-on in one day! Malindy wouldn’ like hearin’ that about the goose. We don’t fuss so much here in the hills, but we do eat a good supper, and we sing some, and outside a feedin’ the livestock we don’ do no work. I ain’t got no gift for ya, but I’ll feed ya fine today.’

Charley had to admit that the highlight of the day was the dinner the best he’s ever eaten here—a tender ham they’d salted down the previous summer and now soaked in water, then baked; and a lard crust pie from sun-dried apples.

After they finished eating Granny Jerusha sang a mountain carol to Charley in her harsh, deep, old woman’s voice.

In turn, Charley sang a carol in Latin which the sisters had taught him. At its end, Granny Bent said ‘Ya got a sweet voice.’ Then she went on to sing him another carol, ‘The Cherry Tree Carol,’ about the tree that at the request of the Baby Jesus let liquid flow off its bent branches to water the thirsty, kneeling animals at the manger.”

Charlie Skedaddle is a Civil War story about a twelve year old boy from New York’s Bowery section who lies about his age and joins the Union army. However, Charley’s first battle is more than he bargained for, and he “skedaddles”. Charley end up in the hills of Virginia, where he takes refuge with Granny Bent, an old mountain woman who trusts Charley about as much as he trusts her—not much. Will Charley always be a coward in hiding from both Yankees and Rebels, or will he grow into manhood in the hills of Appalachia?

Patricia Beatty’s books are all worth searching for and reading. She wrote ten books with her husband, John Beatty, and then after his death, she wrote more than thirty works of historical fiction by herself. Some of her other books that I have enjoyed are Bonanza Girl, That’s One Ornery Orphan, Behave Yourself Bethany Brant, Be Ever Hopeful Hannalee, Wait for Me Watch for Me Eula Bee, and Jayhawker.

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Christmas in France, c. 1930

Dec17

From Noel for Jeanne-Marie by Francoise Seignobosc:

“Listen, Patapon,” says Jeanne-Marie. “Noel is the birthday of the little Jesus.”

“And there is something more about Noel. If you are very good, Father Noel brings you presents. He comes in the night. No one sees him, no one at all. I put my wooden shoes near the chimney and Father Noel fills them with presents. You will see, Patapon, you will see . . .”

Unfortunately, Patapon is Jeanne-Marie’s pet sheep, and sheep have no wooden shoes to place beside the chimney for Father Noel to fill with presents.

I love both the illustrations and the story in this simple picture book about a little French girl and her pet sheep. Ms. Seignobosc, a French-American author and illustrator who used the pen name of simply “Francoise”, wrote and illustrated over 40 picture books between the years of 1930 and 1960. I would suggest that if you find any of her books about Jeanne-Marie or any of her other lovely picture books that you snap them up. They are not only collector’s items, but they are also delightful, simple stories for reading with preschoolers and for the young at heart.

Take a look at this one about Biquette, the white goat with a lovely special-made coat.
Or Springtime for Jeanne-Marie, one of my favorites.
More from Springtime for Jeanne-Marie.
And here’s some information about another Francoise book, The Thank You Book.

Amazon Affiliate. If you click on a book cover here to go to Amazon and buy something, I receive a very small percentage of the purchase price.

Christmas in Alaska, 1948

Dec16


From The Year of Miss Agnes by Kirkpatrick Hill:

“When it was Christmastime, we had a tree in the school. . . We put popcorn strings on it and little chains made of green and red paper. That tree looked just beautiful.

It was supposed to have candles on it, but Miss Agnes said that spruce was too dry, the needles just falling off with a little sprinkling sound when you walked by it. We might set it on fire if we put candles on it.

Miss Agnes showed us some Christmas pictures from other countries, and those Christmas trees were just fat. Different from our skinny little trees. Our little skinny tree branches couldn’t even hold a candle, I don’t think.

Miss Agnes taught us a whole bunch of Christmas songs. Some we knew from the radio already. And we put on a play.”

Miss Agnes is the new teacher in a small Athabascan village in Alaska, and the narrator of the story is ten year old Fred, one of her pupils in the one-room schoolhouse. This 113 page book would make a good read aloud story for younger children or a good independent reading book for those who are confident enough to start reading chapter books by themselves. It’s a lovely story about a very special teacher, and the Christmas celebration that Miss Agnes has with her pupils and their parents is especially fun to read about.

Amazon Affiliate. If you click on a book cover here to go to Amazon and buy something, I receive a very small percentage of the purchase price.

Recommended.

Christmas in Port William, Kentucky, 1954

Dec9

From Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry:

“The night of the Christmas dance was starless. A few snowflakes were floating down out of the dark sky into the aura of electric light in front of Riverwood. I was moved to see the snowflakes melting in Clydie’s hair as I helped her out of her coat. She was wearing a light green dress with a full skirt that set off her figure, and I reached around her waist and gave her a little hug.

We protested and paid and went past Mrs. Fitz’s table into the darker room. The band already was playing and couples were dancing. Mindful that we were older than most, we took a table a little off to itself and yet where we had a good view of the floor. For a while we just watched. The boys were wearing their good suits. The girls were in party dresses, all dolled up. It was a pretty thing to see them dancing. The room was lighted by rows of shaded electric candles along the walls, an imitation log fire in the fireplace, and (so far) by a few lamps overhead that cast a soft glow onto the dance floor. Everybody (including, of course, me) had brought a pint or a half-pint stuck away in his pocket or in his date’s purse.”

Something happens at the Christmas dance that changes Mr. Jayber Crow, Port William’s resident barber and inveterate bachelor. He sees something that changes the direction of his life–in an unusual way. He makes a vow, and he spends the remainder of the book living out the consequences of that vow.

“Maybe I had begun my journey drunk and ended it crazy. Probably I was not the one to say. But though I felt the whole world shaken underfoot, though I foresaw nothing and feared everything, I felt strangely steadied in my mind, strangely elated and quiet.
The sky had lightened a little by the time I reached the top of the Port William hill. It was Sunday morning again.”

Jayber Crow is one of the best books I’ve ever read by a very talented author.

Amazon Affiliate. If you click on a book cover here to go to Amazon and buy something, I receive a very small percentage of the purchase price.