Dinah
I heard Coleman talkin’ to Mr. Sherrill on the phone—she’s got surprises cooking, and she won’t tell me a thing! But I learned something important. She told Mr. Sherrill the best present she ever had was bein’ able to give us presents—she never had money to give anybody a present before in her whole life. I think he was warning her about spendin’ money, ‘cause I heard her say, “Yessir, I know I’ll need every penny to go to college, and with God’s help, I’ll find the money somehow, but right now I need to give presents. The Lord says it’s better to give than receive, and this Christmas, I need to give.”
I told Miss Ida and Aunt Polly what she said about giving presents, and never havin’ been able to give any, and they put their heads together and came up with the idea of goody bags for everyone in our class (twenty-four children, includin’ me and Coleman, and Miz O’Quinn makes twenty-five) as Christmas presents from Coleman at her birthday party.
Aunt Polly bought some little white paper bags downtown, and red ribbon to make bows on the handles, and I printed a name in red crayon on each bag. Everybody will get a homemade gingerbread boy or girl, and a candied apple, and a popcorn ball to hang on the tree (or eat). I’m helping fix everything and writin’ cards that say “Merry Christmas from Coleman.” The goody bags are a surprise for Coleman. She’ll be floating on clouds.
Miss Ida was disappointed when I told her Coleman wanted refreshments just like everybody else has at her school party, because Miss Ida wanted to do something special. But Coleman says if we do anything but what the others do, it will look like we’re puttin’ on airs, and maybe make somebody feel bad that they can’t have as nice a party as ours. (I think the goody bags will be all right with her, ‘cause everything’s homemade.) Coleman wants cupcakes—hers will have a candle on it—and drinks, just like other children in our grade have had. I know Miss Ida wants to bake and decorate a big fancy cake, but she’s savin’ her special dishes for the party at home. So Coleman is gettin’ her cupcakes, but they’ll have white frostin’ and red decorations. We’ll have cranberry punch to drink and salted pecans to break the sweetness. One of the big Byrd boys is comin’ in a Santa Claus suit to help pass the food, and to give out the little gift bags and the “Secret Santa” gifts.
I never heard of Secret Santa till now. This is how it is: Miz O’Quinn had us draw names for presents, and each of us is a “Secret Santa” for the person whose name we drew. You have to make the present yourself, and you can’t spend more than a dollar for the stuff you make it with. Miz O’Quinn gave us some ideas for gifts: a tree ornament, a bookmark, a full-year calendar like we did for December, a dried flower and seed pod arrangement to put in a vase, a seashell picture (some of the kids go to the beach a lot), or a ‘craft’ thing like a corn-dolly or a decorated gourd.
Coleman drew Maria Garcia’s name. At Thanksgiving, Maria told us she has a big orange cat she loves—the cat’s named Sophia after the Queen of Spain. (Sophia and Maria Garcia! That’s so funny!) So Coleman decided to make a catnip mouse for Sophia as Maria’s present. Coleman had read about catnip mice, but she didn’t know where to get the catnip, so she called Miss Rena to ask if she knew of a store that carries it. Turns out Miss Rena has lots of dried catnip put by for her cat, Drusilla, and she’ll give Coleman all she wants, if Coleman will make a catnip mouse for Drusilla for Christmas. Coleman was thrilled, and she’s already made four mice, because Aunt Mary Louise wanted one for Granny’s cat, Penny, and Sarah Ann wanted one for her college roommate’s cat.
Then Sarah Ann decided they’re so cute she wants us to sell ‘em at the produce stand, so I reckon Coleman will be makin’ mice right up till Christmas. She’s usin’ scraps from the scrap bag, and every mouse is different. The one for Maria is the best. Coleman made it with leftover green corduroy from her Christmas dress. She bought some white shoelaces gone yellowish with age at the shoe store, and dyed one green for the mouse’s tail, and she embroidered eyes and whiskers and “Sophia” on its back. I know Maria and Sophia will love it.
We’re closin’ the produce stand for January, February, and most of March, ‘cause hardly anybody will drive by, and there’s nothin’ much to sell. But that’s a long way off, and right now we’re so busy, my head’s spinning. We got to thinkin’ about other pet presents to give and to sell, and Sarah Ann bought little bells to put on dog and cat collars. Until it runs out, we’re using scraps from the red cloth we used for our library slipcovers—it’s plenty tough—for the collars. I made a bell collar for Jessica Guthrie’s poodle, Louie (we think Louie is Peter’s daddy). I’m Jessica’s Secret Santa, and I don’t like her much—she’s too prissy. But Louie is almost family, so I don’t mind givin’ him a present.
Coleman’s heard from the ladies she calls her angels, and Miss Laura Byrd, who fetched her home from New Orleans. They’re all comin’ to her party, and Mr. Sherrill made reservations for ‘em at the motel down the road toward Wilmington. He’s called ‘em all, too, and he’s talked to Miss Ida and Aunt Polly about ‘em, but they haven’t told me much. Secrets! Miss Ida hasn’t even told me what we’re cookin’ for Coleman’s night party, or Christmas Eve or Christmas dinner. More secrets! But I have the feelin’ that the dinner for Coleman’s party will be ‘specially good, what with folks comin’ from so far away, and bein’ strangers and all. Anyway, we’re much obliged to those ladies, and I heard Miss Ida tell Aunt Polly nothin’s too good for them, and she’s grateful for a chance to thank ‘em. Me, too.
Polly
Miss Seaman went home to New Jersey for a weekend in early November and came back with a big diamond engagement ring. She’s said to be a changed person—really nice. (I’ll believe it when I see it.) Anyway, she volunteered to take over the Christmas pageant at the children’s school. She sent Coleman and Dinah a program for the Christmas show at Radio City Music Hall, which has everything in it from Santa’s workshop to the manger scene in Bethlehem. She plans to model the school program along the same lines, with all the classes participating, as they do at the Fall Festival. They’ll start it at six, and the smallest children will do the nativity scene—the finale—at about eight, so everyone gets to bed early.
Miss Seaman wants to use live animals in the nativity scene, and everyone is trying to help out, but there aren’t too many nativity animals in Slocumb County. (Miss Seaman says they have camels and a donkey and sheep in Radio City Music Hall.) I think Rena Dorman is lending a goat, but I don’t know what else Miss Seaman’s turned up. No camels, that’s for sure.
The rest of the program will be a surprise for our little family, but in the second grade’s scene, “Let It Snow,” Coleman stars as Frosty the Snowgirl! I don’t know if she was chosen for her small size, or because Miss Seaman wants to make up for being so mean to her. Anyway, Coleman is tickled pink, and I made her an adorable costume, with Styrofoam balls for her head (cut-out eyes and a carrot nose) and torso, and white tights, and a cardboard top hat Sarah Ann got in Chapel Hill, painted white and covered in sparkles. She looks cute as a button in it.
Coleman is the only one in the class who has to wear a costume—the other children wear clothes they’d wear in the snow, if it ever snowed here. Dinah will wear her new red corduroy dress, and her navy blue winter coat, and a white knit cap and scarf I knitted for her last Christmas. She’ll burn up, but she won’t be onstage long.
Coleman doesn’t have to sing—she just dances around the stage while the others sing “Let It Snow” and “Frosty.” (The word about Coleman’s singing ability—or lack of it—may have spread—I’m sure Miss Seaman heard about it from Clara Hatley. Coleman has a nice soft speaking voice, but she can’t carry a tune, and she croaks like a frog when she sings. Mary Louise says never mind; at her church’s carol festival, Coleman will be surrounded with strong voices, and no one will notice. Anyway, the Lord will think her voice is beautiful, and that’s what matters.)
When Miss Seaman sent around the Radio City Music Hall program, she also sent Col
eman some articles on a Presbyterian church in New York City that has a “Blessing of the Animals” ceremony. Coleman decided we should do the same thing here. She loves animals, and she also likes the way all the churches join together for the New York event. She still goes to the Methodist Church, so first she called on Mr. Galloway, the Methodist minister, to ask if the Methodists would host an animal-blessing program, but he declined, and so did the Baptists. Coleman told Dinah that the ministers all looked at her like she was suggesting something heathenish.
Well, maybe it’s heathenish to them, but obviously not for that New York City Presbyterian church—nor, as it turns out, ours! When Coleman approached Mr. Guthrie, who shares her love for animals, he said our church will be glad to do it. They’re going to follow the format of the New York church with a six o’clock service right after the Youth Fellowship meets at five on the last Sunday before Christmas. Mr. Guthrie told Coleman he’d get in touch with the other clergy, but Aunt Mary Louise has already talked to Dr. Coker, and the Byrds’ church will definitely participate in the service. Naturally, we’ll all be there, including Peter.
As soon as the word got around, people started talking about what a good idea it is. (Sarah Ann made copies of the article about the service at the church in New York and sent them to a lot of people, and I think they’re excited about being like a church in New York.) I hear the Methodists are sorry they aren’t hosting it. But that Hatley woman has been telling people she doesn’t approve of animals in church, and she has the best children’s choir—better than anything in New York, much better than anything around here. Hmph. Pride goeth before a fall. She must never have heard Mary Louise’s children’s choir. She’s in for a shock.
Dinah
A big Christmas surprise has started, even though it’s still weeks till Christmas: a Byrd Construction Company truck was in the driveway when we came home from school, and men with ladders were crawlin’ all over the outside of the house and the roof. Miss Ida and Aunt Polly were sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee and lookin’ happy, but amazed.
“What’s goin’ on?” I asked.
“The men are repairing cracks and stopping up places the wind can come in,” Miss Ida said. “Mr. Sherrill called and said Olivia wouldn’t want us to suffer from the cold, so the estate is repairing the house, and they’re putting in a furnace to replace the one that died so long ago.”
I could hardly take it in. “You mean we won’t freeze this winter?”
Aunt Polly nodded. “That’s right. Ever since Mr. Sherrill called, I’ve been thanking God. If there was a single thing I wanted more than anything else—something that would make Christmas perfect—it’s a warm house. I never prayed for it, because it seemed like a sin. When you think of the baby Jesus being born in a stable—well, I felt as if I should be grateful for a roof over my head, and not complain about a little cold—”
“Not so little,” I whispered to Coleman, who had a big smile on her face. “Is this a Christmas present from you?”
“Not ‘zackly. Now don’t be askin’ so many questions,” she said, shakin’ her finger at me. “Christmas is comin’, and curiosity killed the cat.”
Well, cat or no cat, I was set on findin’ out, and so I asked Aunt Mary Louise when I got her by herself. The heat was mostly a present from Mr. Sherrill, with a lot of help from the Byrds, who did the work at the house, including installin’ the new furnace that Mr. Sherrill bought. Coleman wanted to pay for it out of the estate, only Mr. Sherrill wouldn’t let her. When she told him how much we suffered from the cold last winter, he decided to do it himself. Everybody is keepin’ Miss Ida and Aunt Polly from knowin’ Mr. Sherrill paid, because they might not accept it—charity!!—so he arranged it all and told Miss Ida it came from the Fairgroves’ estate. (I think that was just a fib, real white, not a lie.) Anyway, whoever His earthly servants were, the warm house is surely a gift from God, and I am truly thankful. They turned on the heat already, and I can’t believe how warm the house feels.
We went to the tree lighting at the courthouse last night, and it was bee-uti-full. The tree’s not as big as the one in New York—we’ve seen that one on TV, and it’s a giant—but the one downtown is the biggest anybody ever saw around here, and when the colored lights all went on at once, I gasped—it was like magic. The high school glee club led us in singing Christmas carols, which are some of my favorite songs in the whole world. I never get tired of hearin’ or singin’ ‘em.
After the tree lighting, we went to Aunt Mary Louise’s. There was a bunch of Byrds there—all sizes—and us, and Dr. and Miz Coker. We had the best supper—Aunt Mary Louise is near ‘bout as good a cook as Miss Ida. When we got home, like the song says, I fell asleep countin’ my blessings. I’m doing that every night till Christmas, and maybe from then on. It’s a happy way to go to sleep.
Polly
We went to the bazaar today and bought the tree, which is lovely, but I told Ida this tree will have lost all its needles by the 20th of December, which is nearly two weeks away, and if there are any left, we’ll probably set the house on fire if we turn on the tree lights at Coleman’s party. She smiled and said I was probably right, but that Mary Louise is driving us to Valley Stream on December 19th to buy a replacement tree. The girls can change the decorations and put what’s left of the first tree outside and cover it with food for the birds.
I started fussing about the extravagance, and she held up her hand to stop me. “This is Coleman’s first real Christmas, and her first birthday party, and her friends who helped her so much will be here on the twentieth. We can’t celebrate with a dead tree.”
She’s right, of course. This Christmas is special. It deserves two trees. A two-tree Christmas! What next?
Dinah
We decorated the tree this evening, and it is bee-uti-full. All our ornaments are real old. Miss Ida says she and Aunt Polly had some of ‘em when they were little. And some of them I made in kindergarten and first grade, including the big star we put on top. Lots of our ornaments were made by friends, too. I love lookin’ at ‘em.
Miss Ida and Aunt Polly put a bunch of wrapped gifts under the tree, and they said we should open one from Miss Rena ‘cause it had to do with supper. So we did, and it was a ‘lectric fondue pot, and forks with long handles, and the rest of the present was in the kitchen—cheese and chocolate and stuff to make fondue, and the recipes. I never heard of fondue before, but the note from Miss Rena explained that folks mostly eat it in the real cold weather like in the Swiss mountains, where there’s snow. We used the forks to dip toasted bread cubes and vegetables in the cheese fondue, which is mostly melted cheese, and it was de-lish-us. We sat around the kitchen table and pigged out—twice! First on the cheese, and then we cleaned the pot and fixed the chocolate fondue—that’s melted chocolate—and dipped bits of pound cake in it. We played Christmas music on the radio, and it was lovely.
But I thought Coleman didn’t look as happy as I felt, and when we went to bed, I asked her what the matter was. Turns out she thought there ought to be an angel on top of the tree and a manger scene under the tree.
“I don’t know about an angel for the tree,” I said. “Some folk have a star, some an angel. Maybe we can buy an angel? But we have a manger scene—we usually put it up in the dining room, on the buffet.”
“Oh, let’s look at it tomorrow,” she said, her face lightin’ up. “An’ let’s us go to the store and buy us an angel for the treetop. It won’t hurt your feelin’s if we take down your star, will it?” I said it wouldn’t, and we went to sleep with her lookin’ ‘most as happy as I feel.
At breakfast, when I asked about the manger scene, Aunt Polly said, “We have two now—one was Olivia’s. I’ll unpack them both, and you can look at them after school. But I don’t know about an angel for the tree—they might not have anything very good in the stores here—”
“I saw one at the bazaar yesterday,” Coleman said. “It was real pretty.”
“It s
aw it, too,” I said. “It was grand, with a white satin dress and silver wings and halo.”
“‘Grand’ is right,” said Miss Ida. “It cost twenty dollars.”
“Good gracious!” Aunt Polly said, frownin’. “That’s way too much. I wish I’d known you wanted one—I could have made it. But I’m out of time—I couldn’t possibly get one done now.”
“May we look downtown and at the bazaar after school?” Coleman asked. “Maybe there’ll be a cheaper one.”
Miss Ida said we could, and all day we looked forward to shopping. But when we got downtown, there weren’t any nice angels anywhere, and the fancy angel we saw at the bazaar was gone. Coleman looked as near to cryin’ as I’ve ever seen her.
“Were you goin’ to pay twenty dollars?” I asked.
“I didn’t want to, ‘cause I’d have had to use the ‘mergency money Mr. Sherrill gave me,” she said. “But I got to get an angel for the top of the tree, before my angels come. I don’t want them to feel bad.”
“Oh, I see,” I said, tryin’ to figure out what to do. “Maybe if we worked together we could make one?”
“Not enough time,” she said. “Not to make somethin’ nice.”
I never saw her so downhearted, and I was worried about what to do, but when we got home, the bazaar angel was on our tree! Coleman clapped her hands. “It’s a Christmas miracle,” she said, with a great big smile.
I knew Aunt Polly must have bought it—Miss Ida was too busy to leave the kitchen—and in a way, it was a miracle, ‘cause Aunt Polly would have purely hated to spend that kind of money on something she could have made better. And I was sure she knew it was made by Miss Hatley, who was so hateful to Coleman about the Methodist choir. That would have been a bitter pill for Aunt Polly to swallow.
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