A special supplement by the Park Rapids Enterprise
ChristmasSpecial Dec. 22, 2018
Oranges for Christmas By John Zentz Park Rapids
Memories, ahh, memories. Without memories you would be no more, and I an empty shell. So, let’s explore some memories. Take my hand and we shall go back through the years to the magical time of this child’s Christmas. We will catch the tail of an imaginary comet and it will whisk us back to a little 40-acre rock farm in northern Minnesota. A tar paper shack, smack in the middle of the Great Depression. Well, as you may have guessed, we didn’t have much. Still God, with his infinite wisdom, gave us a very, very special gift – my father. Sadly, we lost him to a fatal car accident at just 56 years old. A proud man. To my knowledge, never took a hand-out in his entry life. Except once. It was mid-December. As always in northern Minnesota, it was very cold. Our farm was 14 miles from a small town, known as Pine River. Our government was trying
to support the folks throughout the country as best they could. There was a government program to get fresh fruit to families. The radio – our only way of getting any information – was broadcasting there would be free oranges, available in Pine River. My Mom jumped up, hugged my dad and whispered in his ear, “You must go and get some. It will be our only Christmas.” dad kissed her then slowly put on his coat. I remember that coat. It made him look like a big bear. He had a raccoon hat with big ear flaps, then came his big boots. He moved slowly like this was something he didn’t want to do, then he was out the door and soon lost in the snow. Snow we had a lot of. dad had to make the long, 28 miles round trip with just a horse and sleigh. Yes, we had a car, a 1929 Model A Coop, but the roads were not plowed. In those days, we were lucky to have a road. So, that horse and sleigh and my dad
ORANGES: Page C7
Rudolph the rabbit By MacKenzie Tastan Union City, Calif. Lisa stared up at the starry sky and sighed. It was Christmas Eve, and she felt the weight of her failure pressing down on her shoulders like Santa’s sack filled with coal. This was their first Christmas after the divorce, and Lisa had worked hard to make it nice and normal, but she wasn’t able to give either of her children the gift
they really wanted. Both of them really wanted a puppy, but their apartment didn’t allow pets. Back in their old house, with a yard and plenty of space, it would have been easy. It was just one more thing their father had promised them and then never delivered. She looked up and imagined Santa Claus riding by with his reindeer. “Dear Santa,” she whispered,
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Santa’s visit By Lois Mcclatchie Park Rapids My elementary school had two rooms. One was for grades one through three, and the other housed grades four through six. Each year, the kids from both rooms got together and presented a Christmas program. We performed plays, recited poems and sang songs on a wooden stage. Our parents brought “lunch,” which consisted of hot dishes, sandwiches, Jell-O, cakes and cookies. The highlight of the night was Santa’s arrival. He showed up in a hay wagon pulled by two horses who were outfitted with jingling harness bells. We knew whose horses they were, but Santa’s identity was always a cause for speculation among older kids. He brought candy and apples for us, “ho, ho, ho-ing” as he passed out goodies. Whoever he really was, those nights he was Santa.
SANTA: Page C4
Why me, Lord? By Theresa Henderson Menahga There’s a song that was quite popular years ago beginning with the words “Why me, Lord?” Over three and a half years ago, I began a new journey in my life. The Cancer Journey. I was diagnosed by Mayo Clinic with stage IV endometrial cancer. Six to 12 months, they said, if I did nothing. Many people would meet me along the way of this journey. Because of my faith, I was often asked, “Don’t you ever ask God ‘why me?’” My quick response was “why not me?” I never once considered that I shouldn’t have cancer any more than the next person. This Christmas, as I prepare to celebrate my first holiday cancer-free, I have, however, asked myself “why me?” several times. I remember the family who lost their adult daughter to cancer just days before Christmas last year. A wonderful woman with young children still in the home. She was diagnosed after me and her courageous battle ended about a year-and-a-half later. I think of how hard it is for those left here without her. Husband, children, siblings and a mom and dad who must ache just to hold her one more time. I
WHY: Page C9
RUDOLPH: Page C8
Every year, entrants in the Park Rapids Enterprise’s annual Christmas Story Contest share their gift of writing. Some inspire, others make us laugh or wipe away a tear. Grab a cup of cocoa, find a comfortable chair and enjoy this mix of creative fiction, personal essay, poem and memoir. Thank you to all of our contributors!