by Larry Hunt
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Christmas Eve on the Farm
Albertville, December 24, 1863
Dearest Husband,
It is Christmas Eve, and this will be our second Christmas apart. Oh, how I have missed you. Since you and the boys left in ’62, I have not received one word from any of you. I hope and pray you, and my two darling boys, Luke and Matthew are still alive and doing well. You understand I know nothing of the working of the military, but I do not know why you or the boys can never post me a letter. Surely writing letters are not secrets...are they?? Maybe you cannot tell me where you are, that I can understand, but please just get word to me, somehow, that you are alive.
When I get to town, I always check the casualty lists posted on the telegraph office’s wall, but as yet, thankfully I have never seen your name or the boys. Each post I send I try to keep you up to date with the family, I am pleased to say all is well. I don’t know what I would have done without Sary though. I don’t remember if I told you or not, but after Uncle Jed and Jefferson were killed we buried them out by the large red oak tree. William and Isaac set up a nice picket fence around the plot of ground. It looks almost like the little cemetery we left at Scarlett Plantation in Carolina where little Paul and the rest of our family are buried. I put them next to Margaret. I hope that was right by you. Tom Henry found some nice flat rocks down beside Hog Creek and etched their names on them. I think you would have been proud.
Until I see you here on Earth or in Heaven, I will always be
Your loving wife, Malinda
Finishing her letter Malinda speaks to William, “William it is Christmas Eve, this year take Thomas Henry out to the back pasture and look along the fence line. Cut us a beautiful cedar Christmas tree.”
“But Mama,” argued William, “Tom Henry is too young! I’ll have to do all the work – find a tree, cut it down and then drag it back to the house. Let me at least take Isaac, he’ll be of some help, and besides Tom Henry will probably chop his leg off with the ax.”
Malinda placing her pen back in the inkwell turns to William gives him a stern look and explains, “Thomas Henry has never had the pleasure of a Christmas tree cutting. I suggest to gain experience Thomas Henry you should be the one to choose the ‘perfect’ tree. William, you can cut it, thereby saving Thomas Henry’s leg, and you both can take turns pulling it back to the house.” Still speaking to William, “Someday the responsibility will fall on Thomas Henry, and he needs to learn from his older brother.”
Still grumbling William storms out the front door. Tom Henry follows with a grin that stretches from ear to ear. By the time he reaches the steps William is in the yard waiting.
“All right, if you’re goin’ we need the ax and a rope from the barn. Go get them!”
“Right, William,” Tom Henry begins to run toward the barn door. He enters the barn; William sits down on the front steps expecting him back quickly. Thomas Henry’s ‘quickly’ turns in to a couple of minutes. William begins to get worried and starts to the barn himself just as Tom Henry comes riding out on Blaze. He is carrying an ax and rope.
“What the...! What are you doing Tom Henry, we can’t take Blaze.”
“Sure we can, you know I have never been Christmas tree hunting before, so I’m not supposed to know that we’re not allowed to take Blaze to drag the tree back. And besides Mama didn’t say anything about not using Blaze.”
William looks at his brother, the horse, the ax and the rope then nods his head, “Right! Right, stick with that story: you didn’t know nothin’ about taking the horse.” Jumping upon Blaze the two of them quietly ride off to the back pasture.
THE PERFECT TREE
Riding double on Blaze across the pasture of knee high, green Rye grass William remembers back a few years when a neighbor told them about Winter Rye. At first he did not believe that grass could grow in the winter, but they tried it and sure enough, here it is. It is perfect forage for the cows, mules and horses, well for their one horse Blaze. “All right little genius find us that perfect Christmas tree, Tom Henry.”
William rides Blaze along the fence line knowing the area along this part of the pasture is the perfect place to find the young cedar trees. As they ride, Thomas Henry looks at first one then the other so far none of them meets with his approval. “Come on Tom Henry, pick one out, it’s cold out here, and we need to get a tree back to the house. Mama and the rest of the family are waiting for us to return.”
Back at the house Malinda has the rest of the family moving furniture away from the front window. She says this is an ideal spot for the tree. “All right everyone, I’m popping popcorn and we need to string it up to put on the tree. Mattie Ann you and Lizzie go up to the attic and bring down the box of Christmas ornaments. Sary, please get a needle and thread for the popcorn.”
The family is joyous and excited as they prepare to decorate the tree that William and Tom Henry should be back with shortly. Their hearts are on Christmas. They know there will be no presents, but this is the third year of this terrible War, and the spirit of Christmas giving has long since been forgotten.
Malinda hears the boys returning. Going to the front door she is just in time to see Thomas Henry leading Blaze back into the barn. She says nothing and returns to the rest of the family in the parlor.
Grabbing the tree, William and Tom Henry carry it up on the porch and into the house. “Take it to the parlor room we’re going to put it in front of the large front window.”
Once they have the tree standing, Tom Henry steps back admiring the tree saying, “Well Mama what do you think, did I pick out a good one, or what?”
“Oh yes, Thomas Henry, that is a fine tree; in fact, it may be the best one we have had in years. Where did you find it?”
Still strutting his feathers, Tom Henry responds, “Why, we had to go plumb near the end of the fence line before I found this fine tree.”
“The end of the fence line, huh? Thomas Henry that’s a long way to go, especially for you and William to drag this tree.” She looks the tree up and down, “why it’s nearly 8 feet tall, all the way from the back pasture to the house, huh?”
“Yes ma’am it is a long way.”
“Who did most of the dragging you or William?” William begins to inch his way toward the door and out of the room. “Where are you going William, the fun is just getting started.”
“Yes ma’am that’s what I am afraid of.”
“Afraid of fun? Why boys, after that long trip, cutting down the tree and dragging it to the house all by yourselves, you should just sit down and watch while we decorate the tree. You both need to rest, I’m sure you are tuckered out.”
“But Mother,” complained Tom Henry, “decorating the tree, that’s the best part.”
“You boys never did tell me which one of you worked the hardest dragging the tree home. Was it you William?” William said ‘no’ with his head almost touching his chest. “Then it must have been you Thomas Henry?”
Tom Henry, head bowed, thought for a second then responded, “No Mama, it wasn’t me either, I can’t lie. I took Blaze, and he was the one that drug the tree home. It was me not William. William told me not to take Blaze, and I took her anyway. If a whupping is acomin’ give it to me not to William.”
“Thank you son for not lying. Neither of you is getting a whipping; however, if one were needed now would be the time, but you told the truth, and I will overlook your disobedience this one time.
“Boys, it’s not that I care about the use of Blaze – she is big and strong, pulling a Christmas tree will not test her strength in the least. I do not want you to use the horse at night because you are working close to the bluff and in the dark, many things can frighten a horse causing her to run away. Of course, you two would chase after her and probably fall over the cliff. You see, without the horse you have less chance to get hurt. It is both of you boys that I care about, not the horse.
“All right that i
s enough chastisement, after all it is Christmas. Thomas Henry, William get over here and help us decorate this tree, and don’t let me catch you eating all the popcorn either.”
In a while, the tree was covered with ornaments, all homemade, but it was wonderful. “Mama, let’s sing Christmas carols.”
Mattie Ann asks, “Mama do you suppose, Papa, Luke, and Matthew will be home next Christmas to decorate the tree and sing carols?”
Malinda did not answer.
Moving to the piano Malinda pulls out the stool and comments, “It’s been a while since I played.” She began, and the others joined in:
‘Hark
the herald angels sing,
Glory to the newborn King!
Peace on earth and mercy mild
God and sinners reconciled.
Joyful, all ye nations rise
Join the triumph of the skies
With the angelic host proclaim:
"Christ is born in Bethlehem."
Hark! The herald angels sing
"Glory to the newborn King!’
Little did Malinda know at that very moment in a distant cave in Kentucky her wonderful son Luke was picking the same tune on his guitar? She thought of the words of the song, ‘Peace on earth’... Will we ever see peace again?’