A GREAT CHRISTMAS GIFT

   Ten miles south of Orion, Alberta, a small prairie school called Pakowki gathered once a year for a Christmas celebration before December 25^th.  The teacher taught all grades through the 8^th and then a correspondence course led us through the 9^th from Alberta’s capital city, Edmonton.  Teachers became directors for the Christmas concert that included singing carols, marches and plays, to entertain our parents.  Everyone in the district came for this celebration and no one bothered to lock their homes.  A fir tree was decorated and bags of nuts, candy and small gifts appeared.  Santa burst through the door ringing bells and called the names on each child’s gift bag showing that “once a year orange” at the top.  Blizzards could whip in any winter day and December 26, 1927 gave us a long remembered one.

The day after Christmas on the 26^th the real excitement was about to begin.  With no TV or radio, we often printed our names on the frosty window panes.  On that day Mother had tucked us into our bunk beds early after we had said our “lay-me-down prayers” and we went to bed and forgot the snow that had brought the bitter cold of the past few weeks.  One of our parents sometimes stayed awake on such nights to keep feeding the kitchen fire to keep the house warm.  Mother had buttoned an extra heavy warm coat around me in case I heard noises and tried to get up.   The baby of the family usually slept with the parents in their double bed until another bunk would be ready.  Even the house seemed to rattle and shiver from the outside blizzard and we children soon fell asleep. A horse driven sleigh from the south drove into our yard and two people alighted.  Father had harnessed the team once more and driven a half mile south to the Roberts home and brought Mrs. Roberts back with him.  Every mother responded to another mother who might be in this type of stress.  The next thing I heard was a general commotion and every sleeping eye had opened and all were awake.  I clearly recall thrashing around trying to get out of that buttoned-up coat until Mrs. Roberts responded at the right time and released me to join all the others in the kitchen.  I liked Mrs. Roberts who often came over to use Mother’s sewing machine.  She had four small daughters to sew for and her sewing machine often broke down.  When I arrived in the kitchen Mother was sitting in the rocking chair holding a baby.  Paul, age 11 (the scientific one) was asking questions.  “The roads are blocked and our narrow stove pipe is too small for a stork to drop a baby through, where did this new baby come from?”   “We’re going to call her Esther, after the Biblical Queen and she will be staying with us.” my father (the philosopher) answered.”