Grace had just turned 5 one day before Christmas Eve, and Eve would be two the day after Christmas. It was 40 years ago.
We had been reading chapter books, one chapter each night. It was time to pick up our current book, Wind In The Willows. Tonight happened to be Christmas Eve, but the coincidence of our having come to the chapter about Rat an Mole’s Christmas Eve celebration did not dawn on us… at least not at first.
I read about how Mole and Rat had finally found Mole’s cozy home under the snow, and were setting in comfortably when they heard voices outside:
“I think it must be the field-mice,” replied the Mole, with a touch of pride in his manner. “They go round carol-singing regularly at this time of the year. They’re quite an institution in these parts. And they never pass me over — they come to Mole End last of all; and I used to give them hot drinks, and supper too sometimes, when I could afford it. It will be like old times to hear them again.”
And here we were comfortably snuggled in at 106 Westervelt Avenue, Staten Island, reading this passage, when — unexpectedly — we hear voices outside.
“’Let’s have a look at them!’ cried the Rat, jumping up and running to the door,” was the next line in the book, but instead of reading it, I got up, pulled open the blinds, and we saw that the voices were coming from a group of Christmas Carolers!
We invited them in — not mice, but children and adults — for hot chocolate. After they left and the excitement of their visit had settled down, we got on with our reading, which this night seemed anything but routine.
Wassail
Nice story, and it combines many of my favorite things – Wind in the Willows, reading aloud, the rich giving back to the poor, and caroling.
“We’re the neighbor’s children, that you have seen before….”
…
In 1974, I was likely looking through a Sears Wishbook and circling all the magical things that Santa might want to know I was interested in. Just before Thanksgiving, we’d go to Buffalo and our Aunt Arlene (sort of a great aunt) would pick us up in her big new car and drive us to any store we wanted to get anything we wanted (there was a price limit but it was beyond any of our imaginations – probably 30-$50 per kid!)
We’d spend the day driving around with her, carefully choosing things. A trip to the hobby shop. A trip to the mall. A trip to Child World, the huge toy store.
Before each purchase, she’d ask us “Are you sure this is what you really want?” and we’d have to think… and agree.
Halfway through the outing we’d stop at Arby’s for roast beef and curly fries.
We’d get home and have a blast plain with everything – games, trains, cooks, dolls, …
Then on Christmas, she’d show up again with big bags of presents – gifts she and her husband had found on various travels around the world – kilts, statues, and so on.
They didn’t have kids, so they spreads it around to all of us. Uncle Wally was a fireman – we got to visit the station. He’d show up with a reel of home movies of their trips. Inevitably, they’d jam and catch fire, which we kids thought was pretty funny, considering his occupation.
Merry Christmas Aunt Arlene and Uncle Wally, wherever you are.
Grace
Grace sent me the following message:
“What a nice memory. I think I remember that!”
Besides Grace and Eve’s names being perfect for the story, I forgot to mention that their mother’s name was Carol.