Dear $$firstname$$,

To get you in the mood for the holiday season, we’ve wrapped up three Christmas stories for you to open, along with a wish for a merry Yuletide from a friendly poet. Consider sitting down with your loved ones and reminisce about holidays past. Tell them your favorite memories and what makes the season special for you. And in between the hustling and bustling, we hope you have time for quiet reflection and enjoy the season in ways that you enjoy the most.

—The Folks at Reminisce

In this issue:

• The Red Box
• Preparing for Christmas
• Farm Neighbors to the Rescue
• Poem: The Spirit of Christmas
• Over the Back Fence
• Time Capsule Trivia
• A Thought to Remember

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Valerie Priger Skelly, in 1948

The Red Box

By Valerie Priger Skelly
Bellmore, New York

Many Christmas stories are about wishes and dreams of a gift awaited and longed for. The gift in my Christmas story of 1947 was a complete surprise—an extraordinary gift presented by an extraordinary person and remembered these many years later.

As one of five kids in a modest household where the holiday was not celebrated with presents, I never gave a thought to what Christmas would bring me. Our family marked the birth of Jesus with a morning visit to church and a roast goose dinner late in the afternoon.

In the ’40s, most of our neighbors in Bellmore, on New York’s Long Island, were unassuming and reserved while commemorating the Yule. Outdoor light decorations were limited to a few fir trees in a few front yards. Most front doors displayed a homemade wreath of evergreens; we did not.

In 1947, there were no glittering or blinking lights, no white reindeer on lawns and no red Santas on roofs. Our home bore no decorations, inside or out. It was probably one of the few homes that didn’t have a Christmas tree set up in the living room. At 8 years old, I didn’t seem to notice or mind.

On the Sunday morning before Christmas, I left as usual for my Sunday school class at the small, white church a few blocks from my Oak Street home. I was happy and filled with anticipation. Our local candy-maker, Mr. Sensmeyer, was to hand each child a box of hard Christmas candy as they left church.

After our lessons, my teacher, Miss Smith, unexpectedly pulled out a shopping bag brimming with coloring books and boxes of crayons. A problem arose when Miss Smith realized that a once-in-a-while classmate chose that Sunday to join us. There were seven coloring books and seven boxes of crayons, but our class that day numbered eight.

To this day, I can’t explain how I sensed Miss Smith’s dilemma, but I went up to her and whispered, “Miss Smith, it’s okay to give the book and crayons to the extra kid that showed up instead of me.” It just seemed to me the right thing to do. She smiled gratefully and nodded her approval.

Christmas came and went and I never gave the incident a second thought. We were on holiday break from school and my main concern was seeing as many movies as I could manage at the Bellmore movie house.

The Sunday after Christmas, our church class returned to the usual seven students. At dismissal time, Miss Smith asked me to remain. She handed me a box wrapped in red paper and tied with ribbons and a big red bow.

My family did not exchange gifts—not for holidays, anniversaries or birthdays. I had never received a wrapped present before, and I couldn’t believe my eyes! The package was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

Miss Smith told me to open the gift after I got home. I ran all the way and put the present on our living room couch. My brothers and sisters gathered around while I carefully untied the ribbons. I lifted the lid of the red box and peered at its contents. Lying on a bed of white tissue paper was a bright red jumper with a blouse of red and white stripes. Attached to the jumper was a clock pin.

I wore that jumper and blouse more times than I can remember, and when I grew too tall for the outfit, I passed it on to my younger sister.

The following Christmas, my father chopped down an evergreen from our backyard. We decorated it with homemade ornaments and red paper chains. The year after that, a few small gifts were exchanged.

My own children are now grown and my grandchildren have left Santa behind. During the holidays, a tree reaches to my ceiling, festooned with homemade and store-bought ornaments. Each room sings the season.

And each and every year, I stop and recall the joy I felt as I opened that red box. Thanks again, Miss Smith.

 

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Preparing for Christmas

By Suzanne Bosrock
Battle Creek, Michigan

In December of 1956, several pictures were taken for a publication called The Post Box, which was put out monthly by the Post Cereals Division and the Carton and Container Division of General Foods Corporation.

My father, Robert O. Pyatte, worked at Post Cereals in the sheet metal department making parts for the machines that all the cereals ran through.

The photos may look staged, but my dad was a great family man, always involved with us. He loved working for Post Cereals, which afforded our family a comfortable life at that time.

We were chosen to represent a typical employee’s family preparing for the Christmas season. In the photo of our living room, my dad and brother Bobby are in the back row checking the lights. Sitting in front, from left, are my mom, Jane; my little sister, Janie; my older sister, Julie; and me.

Two years later, my sister Barbara was born. I wish she could have been with us at the time the publication photos were taken.

I remember that the tree we cut down (pictured on the publication cover) was the biggest we ever had, and dad had to keep cutting and cutting until it wouldn’t touch the ceiling.

The last image shows my family, minus brother Bobby, in a more recent photograph, before my dad passed away. Pictured, from left, are my mom, Julie, my dad, me, Janie and Barbara.

The photos from the company publication create a nice remembrance of a really special year for my family.

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Farm Neighbors to the Rescue

By Bonnie Tilmon
Lees Summit, Missouri

Click for larger image.

The Krause children, (from left) Viola, Bonnie and Janeth Krause, are pictured in 1940, the summer before Vi contracted scarlet fever.

Back in the 1930s, my family lived on a little farm at the very end of a road just south of Panora, Iowa. The family consisted of my mom and dad, Frank and Katherine Krause; their children, Vi, Jan and me; and my mother’s parents, Grandma and Grandpa Brubaker.

That old farm was as good as any modern-day amusement park! We found things to do and play with that kids today cannot even dream of. Our old barn was a magical place. We found baby animals at every turn—calves, piglets, puppies. We had our own petting zoo!

The hayloft was a great place to play. You had plenty of hay bales to use as props; they made great houses! Or just jumping in the loose hay could lift your spirits. My sisters and I never grew tired of playing out there.

One Christmas Eve, my sister Vi was really sick with scarlet fever. We called Dr. Nichols to come out and tend to her. There was a terrible snowstorm that night, blowing and drifting all across our land.

I remember a snowplow getting stuck on the hill near our house. The neighbors sent two more plows over to help, and I think every man in Guthrie County must have come out to lend a hand. Those men were very determined to get that sick little girl the help she needed.

I remember watching from the dining room. There were lights everywhere! All the men were working so hard to keep our road open for the arrival of Dr. Nichols.

We were under quarantine for what seemed to be forever. The doctor was the only person allowed to come in. However,  our friends and neighbors delivered our mail, groceries and everything else we needed from town until Daddy could go for supplies himself.

It was a happy time when my little sister Vi finally got well and was able to jump in the hay with us again.

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Poem: The Spirit of Christmas

By Erik Braum
Lafayette, Louisiana

Merry Yuletide greetings
To old friends and the new.

May the season bring much joy
To every one of you.

Invite the Christmas spirit
With holly on the door.

May the family gather ’round
With love and peace once more.

If the chill of winter
Brings a heavy snow,
Keep the fireplace warm
With its bright and cozy glow.

Decorate the tree
With tinsel and soft light.
Sing the carols of the years
To make your season bright.

Share the joyful days
Of this special time of year.
Have good times and gifts for all
With a bit of Christmas “cheer.”

Give your love a gentle kiss
Beneath the mistletoe.
Remember those not present
Who loved us long ago.

Merry Christmas to you all,
A happy New Year, too.
Give your best for those you love
And Christ will be with you.

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Over the Back Fence

Grandma always sent Christmas gifts that were a bit off the wall. One year, I got 12 boxes of 20-year-old office staples. I hung on to them like a good Auran because they still worked in our staplers.

I packed them off to Florida, to California and back to Colorado when I started my own business. Today, when anyone in our office runs out of staples, they come into my office and ask, “Where are Grandma’s staples?”

—Tim Auran
Fayetteville, Arkansas

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Time Capsule Trivia

From the decades spanning the 1920s to the 1960s, try to guess what year these historic events took place. The answer is given below, but no peeking!

1. The Irving Berlin song White Christmas, sung by Bing Crosby, is introduced in the film Holiday Inn.
2. Clark Gable enlists in the Army after his wife, Carole Lombard, dies in a plane crash.
3. Stan Musial, in his first full season in the Major Leagues, hits .315 and helps lead the St. Louis Cardinals to the World Series, where they top the New York Yankees in five games.
4. Notable films of the year include Casablanca with Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman and Yankee Doodle Dandy with James Cagney and Walter Huston.
5. Some of the year’s best-selling records are Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree (With Anyone Else But Me) by The Andrews Sisters, Der Fuehrer’s Face by Spike Jones and A String of Pearls by Glenn Miller and his orchestra.

The year of White Christmas, Casablanca, Stan Musial’s big year and A String of Pearls was 1942.

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A Thought to Remember

Give your body everything it needs, but not everything it wants.

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