The Second "Long Ago Christmas"

       The father had been successful in obtaining employment in one of the sawmills that loomed up on the banks of the beautiful and majestic Detroit river; but the cold in its yearly transit had caused the mills to close down for the winter, thus throwing out of employment, not only this father, but hundreds of others. What was to be done now that all avenues in the city had become blocked, not only to these few hundreds, but in fact to most of the wage-earners, as industries then were nowhere so diversified as at the present time, and were more especially lacking in the new West. The only remedy that suggested itself was that the father should go into the woods for the winter and leave his family to struggle along as best they could under the care and guidance of a loving mother. When time came for the father to go, and the home-leaving was pathetic in the extreme, as only a slim allowance remained in the larder, and nothing could be expected in the way of compensation until after the first month's work had been performed.

       In the meantime Christmas was coming, and this was what caused the sleepless nights and bloodshot eyes of the mother. She was having a struggle that had not been anticipated on leaving the diminutive rock farm on the Atlantic coast, where every Christmas time had seen the little blue stockings of various sizes hung sympathetically over the fireplace, accessible to Santa Claus, and always well filled by him, to the overflowing joy of happy-hearted children.

       The present Christmas time was to this dear mother a sorrowful one, as she kissed each of the little darlings and listened to the ''Now I lay me down to "sleep" prayers. She tucked them lovingly in their little beds, While visions of sugar plums danced through their heads," not-withstanding she had informed them that Santa Claus would be likely to forget them in their far western home, but would no doubt find them when another Christmas came around. With this assurance they quietly slipped off into childhood's happy dreamland, leaving the mother to sit lonely by the fire, with the flickering rays of a tallow candle casting the shadow of six little stockings hanging all in a row on the wall, without the faintest hope of hearing even the footfalls or the merry chuckle from the good-natured Santa Claus of by gone years.

       She wept and prayed that some good angel would assist her in this trying hour; if this help failed what could she do? She remembered that she had put a rosy-cheeked apple into the bureau drawer a few days before, and thinking her prayer had been partially answered, she placed it in the stocking of the baby girl. Now what could she do for the five stockings that represented five bright, active, growing boys? She was certainly in a dilemma, but soon came out of it.

       Before the father's departure for the lumber woods, he had provided all the boys with red topped boots which were to them a comfort and a joy. But wading with them in the early winter slush had destroyed the fine shop polish that was so charming when new. Some good angel whispered in the mother's ear to get the tallow dish and grease the boots and thus give them a finish as if new, also making the leather pliable and soft to the tender little feet. This she did, and when the old clock rang out - one - two she had just finished the last pair and placed them against the wall in a row, looking as fresh and new as when they first came into the home.

       Tired with work and weary with solicitude, she went quietly about the beds of her darlings to see if all was well, and when fully satisfied, she sought the solace of ''nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep."

       At five o'clock Christmas morning, could be heard the patter of little feet on their way for the stockings which the little lads would take to bed with them and look over at their leisure; but they were doomed to disappointment, and sought their mother's bedside for an explanation, when the mother said: "My dears, don't you know we are a great distance from where good old Santa Claus used to live? Perhaps he did not come with presents enough to supply all the children, especially those who have been here so short a time." Then she bade them go and see if there were not some signs of his having been in the house. Away they went, and the anxious mother did not have long to wait before she heard the children shout with joy that Santa Claus had not forgotten them, since he had made their boots as good as new. They also found a letter on the table in which was printed so plainly that all could read: ''Be good children, and I will surely see that your stockings are well filled next Christmas. "Santa Claus"

       This assurance was sufficient to make them all happy, including the mother.

       When the next Christmas time came round, other hands than those of this loving mother were there to administer to the wants of these motherless children; but her influence, no doubt, has ever been with them as a loving angel guide to help them on their devious paths along life's journey. from O'Brien's Pioneer Memories in Minnesota

This free article may be printed and used in a classroom environment. It is reproduced here for extended reading and research into the life stories of American Girl Kirsten Larson. Students may also use the material above in the development of lapbooks/notebooks for home school, private school or public school assignments.