December 6, 2005
World War I. German Prisoners at dinner.
Camp was built exclusively for use
of these men. La Pallice, Charente
Inferieure, France. Dec. 25, 1918.
Christmas means remembering when Jesus Christ
is born. Also spending time with your family
and have a great time with them. All your
family come together to spend the time
thinking about when Jesus Christ was born.
That is what Christmas means to me.
~Julie (11) Minnesota~
We Didn't Have Much, Then, for Christmas
By Jo Lynn Kirkwood
We didn't have
much, then, for Christmas. But what we had mostly seemed like enough.
There was an old wooden bucket we kept in the attic that held all the baubles
and stuff. And once those glass balls were hung on the tree that bucket was just
about right For nuts. The old man would sit by the hearth crackin' pecans
and walnuts at night.
And sometimes he'd take out his whetstone, and hone the edge on his knife.
Then he'd carve, and tell stories, if he got the mood, bout the days and the
years of his life. He'd make whistles and dogs for my brothers, flippers and
soldiers and boats, But those winged wooden angels he'd carve for the tree were
the ornaments I loved the most.
Once he made me a
box with a small wooden hinge that he'd carved in the shape of a leaf. And he'd
lined it inside with burlap. Rolled edges, glued underneath.
He could whittle a chain of flexible links from a stud or a scrap two by four,
And the shavings would fall in a neat little heap 'twixt his feet, and pile on
the floor.
The planes of his
face, in the firelight, were like leather. Shiny, and hard.
And the walnut patina etched into his skin seemed drawn from the wood that he
carved. The gifts that he gave us were small ones, pocketknife-hewn out of wood.
We hadn't much money, but we didn't care. We were happy, and livin' was good.
The old man's been
gone now nearly three years, though I think of him now and then. Like on long
winter nights like this one, with Christmas upon us again.
These days I've more work than I've time for, tho' the pressures are all
self-imposed, I've got parties to plan for, presents to buy, toys and CD's, new
clothes.
My own kids have
written long wish lists. Their expectations are clearly too high.
The TV set bleats with false Christmas cheer that enough of the green stuff will
buy. And tonight as I sit wrapping presents that mostly came from the store,
It occurs to me now we're not nearly so rich as back when we didn't know we were
poor.
song playing....Christmas Chimes