SOUTHERN SAMPLER BY Alma M. Womack are the gobbling of the turkey penned for holiday feasting, a sister playing the square piano, the request of our mother to please crack walnuts for the Lady Baltimore cake, our father singing a carol as he went about his night chores. “Christmas, in Waresville, 1853. Give a thought to it as your family gathers to celebrate this year. Along with the Christmas story from the Bible, remind your children of the faith and endurance which these pioneers carried with them into the Sabinal Canyon, and having come, to stay on in dreams of making homes for themselves and for the generations to come. And with hard work and vision, making those dreams a reality.”
“Christmas
in the 1920’s of my childhood was a world away from our present celebrations. Our tree in childhood was always a native cedar; we knew of no other kind. Cedars dotted the hills and pastures and grew along the rivers. A few days before Christmas, our father took us out in the wagon to pick it out and haul it in. (Mama was busy making her Lady Baltimore cake.) Our father was torn with conflicting emotions. He liked a wellshaped tree as well as anyone, tall enough and not too bushy; three “good” sides and the “bad” side could be put against the wall. But his natural sense of speed and tension told him that back at home the cows had to be brought in and milked, the hogs fed, the hay thrown out of the loft of the barn to the hungry horses below. We must hurry, hurry.......if Mama had supper ready on time, there might be a chance of getting a 42 game organized for that night. “At last the right tree was agreed upon, chopped, thrown into the wagon and borne home where Mama (who was particular and liked things done right) agreed that it would do. For some days, we sisters had spent our spare time cutting, pasting, and coloring paper chains. From the top of the closet came the sheddy, shabby, red and green roping. Daddy nailed down the tree on a rude cross of planks. The tree stood in the north corner by the window. We hastily began to string cranberries and popcorn for garlands. Out came the small red candles
and the holders.......oh what a beautiful tree. A really magic tree in our eyes. “The whole of Christmas was magic. Our parents supported the Santa Claus theory all the way...dropping one of a pair of mittens from his pack on the front porch, writing messages from the good Saint to go with our gifts. Then there was the sociability, the tree at school, another tree and program at church, evenings of singing around our square piano. Aunts and uncles, cousins for an overnight stay. Passing the fruitcake around with black boiled coffee. Walnuts, almonds, oranges, and apples. Chocolate covered cherries. The feet of the big turkey hung on the tree for an unsuspecting child. The new doll, the new handkerchiefs, the new books which we cherished. “You Baby Boomers and younger, you cannot fathom a time when there was no electrical power, no radio, precious little indoor plumbing, no car at your disposal, no clothing except what was ordered from mailorder catalogs or sewed by your mother. No fast foods, no television to rule your day. No school cafeterias and no...and no...
“To you it seems a Dark Age indeed. To us it was a precious time with loving parents who ruled the roost, stayed home nights, and somehow spared the money for piano and violin lessons, a few good books and a toy or two at Christmas. “There was a dearth of material possessions. The few that we found in our stockings or under the Christmas tree were what made the magic of the season.” As we spoiled Americans celebrate Christmas with all of our lights and gadgets and parties and food and decorations and excess, we would do well to remember the Christmases of our forebears and how they appreciated what they had and how they gloried in the true meaning of the Christmas story.
Merry Christmas to all of our readers, and may God continue to bless us and our country. Columnist Alma Womack lives on Smithland Plantation on Black River, south of Jonesville, Louisiana. In addition to her duties as maitresse des maison, she is the keeper of the lawn, the lane and the pecan orchard at Smithland.
Happy Holidays!
Page 62 { November/December 2021 { Bluffs & Bayous
MEALS, PARTY TR GIFTS C AYS, ARDS!
