Whitewater News & Opinion for Wednesday, December 20, 2023

A short story by Helen Austin.

Home for Christmas

“Oh no, it is blizzarding? If it keeps this up, we won’t be able to go home for Christmas,” wailed Anne, a young housewife, as she stared out the window at the freezing snow blowing across the barren prairie of northern Montana.

“Mommy is this cookie pretty?” asked her enthusiastic little girl as she held up a piece of cookie dough slightly resembling a bell.

“Oh, that IS pretty,” answered her mother, trying to show interest in spite of the storm and her worry regarding it. She turned back to her baking.

“Boy, you can’t see your hand in front of you! We haven’t seen a blizzard like this in years!” exclaimed Ralph, the husband, father, and rancher.

“Daddy, Daddy, do you want a cookie?” asked their pretty baby, Lisa, running to hug her daddy.

“Yes, of course I do,” replied the man, scooping up his little daughter in his arms. Anne set a plate of cookies on the table and poured two cups of scalding hot coffee.

“Maybe we should go to my folks before it gets any worse. Or do you think the blizzard will let up before long?” queried the anxious possibly homesick wife as she handed her husband a cup of coffee.

“I’m sorry, honey, but we can’t leave now. You know we have chores and have to feed the cattle in the morning. And it doesn’t look like it will cease, as much as I wish it would.” He took his wife in his arms and kissed her and continued, “If we can’t go to your folks for Christmas, we will go soon after, just as soon as they plow the roads, and the neighbors get back to do the chores. If we can’t go tomorrow, can’t we have our own Christmas here?”

So that was the verdict. Anne moped around the rest of the afternoon, depressed and homesick for the Christmases past, with memories of her family, the gifts, the tree, Christmas carols, and the feast.

“Mommy, what is the matter? Are you mad at me? Aren’t you going to help Daddy and me decorate the tree tonight, Mommy?” asked her sensitive little girl.

“Of course, I will. Mommy is all right. We will trim the tree after supper.” Yes, Anne knew she had to go on for her family’s sake. She got the ornaments from storage and cooked supper. Oyster stew, ham, sweet potatoes, salad, fruit cake, and cookies.

After supper, Ralph put up the tree lights, and Anne and Lisa with stars in her eyes, placed the colored balls, tinsel, and icicles on the tree. The final touch was the star on the top. “That star led the wise men to Jesus, so long ago,” thought romantic Anne to herself.

At bedtime, Anne lingered at the window, staring into the darkness lightened by the blowing snow which had abated a little, as the temperature had dipped way below zero.

She thought, “At home, we always left the Christmas outdoor lights on on Christmas Eve, but no one would see them here. If they did, they could not make it in this storm. Still, I guess I will leave them on.” And she did.

Anne fell into a restless sleep when suddenly, a loud pounding at the door awakened her with a start. Frightened, she woke her husband.

“Ralph, get up, there’s someone at the door?” “Oh, it’s just the storm,” was the reply.

“No, someone is there,” and she donned robe and slippers and called out, “Who is it?”

“Please let us in, we are freezing to death.” Suddenly the nativity scene on the mantle caught Anne’s eye, and she compared the situation with it. “coming”, she called. “Who could be out on a night like this?” thought Anne to herself.

As the door opened, she saw a tall man, a petite woman, and a little boy. They entered, shivering, and rubbing their hands.

“Thank God, you allowed us to come in. We would have frozen.” Our car stalled in the snow about a mile back, and then we saw your outdoor lights.”

“There’s the manger scene. It was in a barn because there was no room at the inn. But there IS room this time,” said the lively boy.

“Yes, there is, come in.” Ralph was up and took their frozen wraps while Anne said most hospitably, “Make yourselves at home while I get some supper. You must be starved.” She bustled about making fresh coffee, and hot chocolate, warming the leftover ham and sweet potatoes, laying out salad and cookies.

While they ate, the lady said, “We are from the south, they don’t have winters like this, and I did not know how bad it was. I wanted to see my folks so bad, I persuaded my husband to make the trip. I had not seen them for two years since they moved out here. Oh, it is all my fault.”

“Well, all is well that ends well,” said the young hostess. “Now let’s make up the beds.” Which the young ladies did together. As they laid quilts on the Davenport and plumped up the pillow, the ladies became friends and made plans for the next day.

“You want to help me stuff the turkey tomorrow? Asked the housewife. “If so, I will wake you.”

“Yes, I sure do” was the reply. The young couple visited, ate cookies, cracked nuts, and drank hot cocoa. The boy fell asleep, and the women decided to stuff the fowl and put it in a slow oven so they could sleep in the next day.

“Say, Santa brought these gifts for you,” Anne said as she reached under the tree and rewrote the names of her guests on some of the gifts she had for her own family. They won’t mind if their gifts arrive later, she thought.

The guests said, “How wonderful.” And they all went to bed with a final chorus of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas”.

As she lay in bed, Anne thought, “Well, we could not be ‘Home for Christmas’, but we sure brought Christmas to our home!”

And lulled by the howling of the wind, she pulled up the covers and went to sleep.

Merry Christmas to all!

Helen