Christmas Quilt Anthology

by Barbara Baldwin

  * * * *

  “Well, I’ll be darned.”

  Bobby woke up with a start the next morning when he heard his dad’s voice. Jumping off the couch, he rushed to the tree to see what his dad was staring at.

  “Shoot!” Bobby exclaimed, mad because he had fallen asleep. Clear up high, almost to the top of the tree, a whole cookie had disappeared, the red ribbon dangling empty from the branch.

  “We’d better get this figured out before your mom grounds both of us,” his dad told him, shaking his head.

  An idea formed. “I know!” Bobby said and rushed off to his bedroom. Dragging a box from under his bed, he flipped open the lid to last year’s Christmas present—a junior chemistry set. All afternoon, he studied the lab booklet that came with the set, checked to see if he had everything he needed, and went to work.

  Before bedtime, he carefully painted some kernels of popcorn and a few cookies with the paint he had made. Determined to stay awake tonight, he sat in his dad’s hard chair. When he looked at the tree, he could see the places he had put the paint because they were glowing in the dark.

  Just after midnight, when the grandfather clock finished bonging twelve times, Bobby heard a very loud pop, pop, followed by several cracks. At first, he thought it was the pinecones again, but when he looked at the tree, his eyes opened wide.

  A ghost floated halfway up the side of the tree! Shimmering green paint gradually filled up its shape from the painted cookie it had eaten.

  “Look what you did! Look what you did!” The ghost wailed as it tried to brush off the color that kept it from being invisible. It swirled around the tree, then down to the floor and back to the ceiling. Bobby tried to keep track of it, but it moved too fast.

  “Wow!” Bobby couldn’t think of anything else to say. It was a ghost that had eaten his mom’s decorations. He frowned at that. “You shouldn’t have eaten the decorations. Mom blamed it on me.” He lectured the ghost.

  “But I was hungry,” it wailed again, slowing down to hover in front of Bobby.

  He thought about that. “Well, you’re supposed to ask first.” At least that’s what his mom had always told him. He figured ghosts should follow the same rules.

  “If I ask, will you let me eat more cookies? They’re much better than the popcorn. It’s stale.” The ghost looked rather sad, and Bobby couldn’t say no.

  From then on, every night Bobby would paint some cookies with his special dye. When the ghost ate them, it would begin to glow—orange, blue or green. Trying to be quiet so they didn’t wake his parents, Bobby and the hungry ghost would play tag in his bedroom. Gradually, the dye would wear off and the ghost would disappear and Bobby would fall asleep exhausted. He didn’t tell his parents about the ghost, figuring his mom wouldn’t like it any better than she had the mouse idea.

  On Christmas Eve, Bobby set a plate of cookies and milk out for Santa Claus. He told the ghost not to eat them. After all, Santa deserved whole cookies, not ones that had been nibbled on.

  Christmas morning, Bobby got his Erector Set from Santa, just as he had hoped. But as he opened the box...

  Pop, crack, pop!

  Then he heard a little sigh. When he turned toward the Christmas tree, he could just make out the ghost hiding in the branches. He was nibbling on a Christmas bell cookie Bobby had painted with the last of his red glow dye.

  He looked back at the Erector Set. Somehow, it just didn’t compare to having his very own Christmas cookie-eating ghost!

  Holiday Letters & Memories

  Christmas

  It’s about old memories and new transitions,

  making new friends and remembering family.

  For all the hustle and bustle of the season, the most important “things” are not the presents or tree, baking or decorations. It’s the people—family and friends—who enrich our lives and make the holidays so special.

  As one writer says, her favorite memory is—

  “spending time with some of the best people I know.”

  More Christmas Memories

  M milk and cookies

  O “Over the

  R River”

  E everyone together

  C cookies, cards, Christ, candy

  H hearts, home, ham

  R reunions, recipes, ringing, ribbon

  I igloos in the snow

  S Santa, sneaking

  T toys, trains, trees

  M music

  A angels

  S sledding, singing, s’mores

  M Moms

  E elves

  M moments in time

  O ornaments

  R remembering

  I icicles

  E evergreens

  S smiles, surprises

  —Priscilla Gaumer

  Susie

  I came from a family of six children. When we were little, we were always thrilled to get hand-me-down clothes, because it was only on rare occasions my parents bought us new ones. We lived in the country and went to a country grade school that served grades one through eight with only two classrooms. I, of course, being the third in line and the second daughter, experienced my fair share of hand-me-downs. At Christmas, we could always expect some very practical gift from Santa, such as clothes.

  The Christmas I remember the most was when I saw my grandmother walking up the steps to our house carrying two beautiful dolls, one for me and one for my sister. I named mine Susie. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever owned. She became a frequent companion of mine and because of the constant attention, she eventually went bald.

  Several years later, after I had married and had my first child, Susie resurfaced in our household. Susie became a favorite of my first daughter, Amy. In fact, when Amy, age three, went to stay with her grandparents, she had to take Susie. I knew how special Susie was, but grandma and grandpa didn’t quite understand. Amy had lots of dolls, why would she want to carry this bald-headed, worn-out one around?

  In fact, they made a point to put a bandana on her head to cover her baldness. I constantly heard comments about the doll without any hair. Later, a new doll was purchased for Amy by her grandparents, so she would quit hauling the scruffy thing around.

  I, however, knew by Amy’s constant attention to Susie, that Susie had made a dent in Amy’s heart the way she had made one in mine. Imagine that, a child that had “everything new” wanting to play with her mother’s old hand-me-down doll.

  Carol Mortimer

  Christmas 2003

  Holiday Memories

  The stocking I hung on the mantle with the picture of a kitten on it,

  that’s almost as old as me...

  Helping Mom make candles that look like chimneys...

  Army green-colored Santa sugar cookies

  (sorry, I was in a militant phase)...

  Alvin & the Chipmunks

  (I do seriously want a hula-hoop)...

  Getting a real kitten that I had wanted for so long...

  The wreath ornament with my picture on it (from second grade)

  that my mother refuses to stop putting on the tree. (I’m now twenty-four years old)...

  My first Cabbage Patch doll

  (Thanks, Mom, for not sleeping all night while waiting for the store to open)...

  Waking up and feeling like a kid again...

  Driving all night through the snow to get to Grandpa and Grandma’s house...

  Stockings full of nuts,

  Lifesaver storybooks,

  A roaring fire

  and...

  Spending time with some of the best people I know.

  Merry Christmas to all,

  Love,

  Cassie Baldwin

  Our Christmas Dresses

  I have a lot of memories from growing up in the 1950’s, but two events combined one year to create a Christmas puzzle. Most little girls of that time wished for Santa to bring them a new doll for Christmas and we were no different. And, very unique to the 1950’s was the fact that mother-daughter ma
tching dresses were the “in” thing. So every Easter and Christmas the three (and later four) girls in our family would have matching dresses.

  This particular year, we had the most beautiful dark blue taffeta dresses with white lace down the middle of the front. A black velvet ribbon spiraled through the lace. I felt very elegant when wearing the dress my mom had spent so much time making. If we were lucky, we would be allowed to wear them for Thanksgiving dinner or church but then we had to wait for Christmas candlelight church service to wear them again.

  Here is where the puzzle occurred. That particular Christmas would be no different in asking Santa for a new doll, but upon awakening Christmas morning, our dolls had the most elegant blue taffeta dresses on that matched our dresses. Santa was magical!

  Now, I’m not sure if I questioned at that moment or year if Santa was real or if he just knew my mom well enough to get the matching material from her. All I knew was it was a “Miracle on Our Street” in San Antonio that year.

  —Jackie Scheidel

  December 1, 1776

  My darling Seth,

  The trees have all lost their leaves now, and winter has set in. As I listen to the wind blowing, it is no colder nor bare than my heart this holiday season. I sit at the window watching the snow fall in ever increasing amounts, and I wonder if you are warm. We hear almost daily reports on General Washington’s movements. Word has come that our troops are not being cared for as we would hope—that you have neither the food you need, nor the blankets to keep the chill away.

  Last night, the artillery could be heard in the far distance, and both Seth Jr. and Robert huddled in our bed, frightened not for the fact that the enemy might come, but for their father. I had to assure them that you were well, and I pray it is so.

  I sincerely hope this war is well over by Christmastide so you can be by my side once more. And yet I know if you were to have a choice, you would be there and not here within the sturdy, comforting walls of your family estate. As much as I would like to blame you for abandoning me, I cannot. The fight you are fighting is more than important to our future and that of our children and our country.

  So instead, I will do my best to write an uplifting, lighthearted missive and to share with you the plans for the holidays. It is my hope to make your days lighter and the time pass quickly so we might be together again.

  I have news, which I hoped to impart to you in person, but fear you will not return in time to celebrate the birth of our child. The doctor states my health is frail but that if I rest, the baby will be born healthy. I detest whiling away my time sitting like some fragile old woman; you know that. There is so much I would do to prepare for the holidays and your homecoming.

  Your father says he will cut a tree on the morrow, and the children will at least be kept busy making the decorations. Beth insists she make a paper chain that will go from top to bottom and all around, so needless to say, there is not a scrap of paper to be had in the house. And on the Eve of Christmas, we shall all venture forth (the children and myself in the carriage, of course) to cut the Yule Log. For even though we fight the British for our freedom, we are still indebted to them for many of our traditions.

  Cook has been very busy making plum pudding and marzipan, gingerbread and sugarplums. Each day, the smells from her warm and inviting kitchen make my mouth water. She has promised we shall package up your favorites and send them off to you, leastwise I shall eat them all and become so ungainly, I shall roll instead of waddle as I do now.

  I hear the children, so I must close. Their grandpapa has promised to take them sledding while the snow is light. The pond is now frozen deep enough for the ice skating to begin. It seems even in the midst of this conflict, our dear children can find joy in the wonders of nature and decorating for the holiday.

  I know that God is watching over you and all your comrades, and I pray that He guides General Washington as he tries to put an end to this conflict.

  You are in my dreams every night.

  All my love,

  Arianna

  December 12, 1983

  Dear Santa,

  I am five years old and have been a good girl this year. I would like you to bring me a Cabbage Patch Doll. I would also like it if you did not bring my big brother anything because he has not been good. You gave him a BB gun last year and he shot me in the butt!

  Love,

  Cassie

  December 1932

  De_r S_nt_,

  I’m _n _spiring writer but my typewriter is no longer working right. I h_ve lost my _ (the first letter of the _lph_bet.) I c_n not find it _nywhere.

  It is _ very import_nt letter _nd I re_lly c_n not do with-ut it.

  N-w, l--k, my - just flew -ff _nd dis_ppe_red d-wn the he_ting gr_te.

  I sincerely h-pe y-u c_n help. If I d-n’t get _ new typewriter (picture encl-sed) I m_y very well h_ve t- ch_nge my n_me _nd m-ve t- _ different t-wn.

  B_rb_r_ N-rris B_ldwin

  M_nh_tt_n, K_ns_s

  December 27, 1776

  My dearest Arianna,

  It is amazing I received your letter in the midst of the turmoil, and I was at once overjoyed to hear of the impending birth of our child. We have heard down the line that we may well be home after the New Year begins, and I pray this is so, for I would be with you during your time of need.

  I am more fortunate than most to be courier to General Washington, for I am clothed reasonably well and my feet are, for the most part, warm. I could not write before of the surprise offensive the general staged early Christmas morn, and I am sure by now you have heard. In the bitter cold wind and near frozen water, we crossed the Delaware River to surprise the Hessian outpost in Trenton very early Christmas morning. After marching for several hours in snow and sleet, our forces divided in an effort to surround Trenton and cut off retreat. The Hessians had no expectation of a surprise attack, and had partied late into the night. We managed to overwhelm them and moved to surround Trenton as the Hessians scrambled to defend themselves. In less than two hours, almost the entire one thousand four hundred man garrison was captured. It was a certain victory and has turned the morale of the troops upward.

  I, too, have prayed this conflict will end soon, but for as long as it must last, we will fight for our freedom and for the future freedom of our children and their children after them. And while I have every intention of being home soon, should I not make it, you must tell Seth Jr. and Robert and even little Beth that their father spent Christmas day with General George Washington, whom I am sure will go down in history as a great leader.

  Until we are together again, you are always in my heart,

  Your faithful husband,

  Seth

  December 15, 1983

  Dear Santa,

  I have been good this year. I help Dad feed the dogs and I do my homework every night. When you stop at our house would you please bring me some more BBs for the gun you gave me last year? That would be really great!

  Love,

  Tommy

  PS—Don’t pay any attention if my sister, Cassie, writes you. She is just mad because I locked her out of the house when the buffalo were in our yard.

  From: “Mickey Walker”

  To: “Barb Baldwin”

  Subject: Holiday story

  Date: Friday, December 12, 2003 9:49 PM

  An Unforgettable Christmas Memory

  I never really knew the true meaning of Christmas until the morning of December 25, 1968. This was my first Christmas away from home. I had been married for only ten short weeks when my husband, who was in the US Army, was transferred to Ft. Riley, Kansas. I arrived on December 24 on what felt like the coldest day I had ever known. My new home was what we could afford offpost, an eight foot wide Air Stream travel trailer that didn’t travel anymore. Our only belongings were what we each had carried with us.

  When the door of our “new” home opened and welcomed me in, I didn’t see a lit-up tree or gifts like
I would have if I were home, only a bare room. There were no smells coming from the kitchen area of a turkey cooking, or the sweet scent of apple and pumpkin pies baking, just the smell of a kerosene heater.

  My husband must have seen the disappointment on my face because he asked what was wrong. I told him I was happy to be able to be with him for the holiday but it just didn’t feel like Christmas, not without a tree and a Christmas dinner. He said it was Christmas Eve and not too many stores would be open but we were not far from the town of Manhattan and he was sure we could find some items there to prepare a Christmas dinner. However, we were not going to be able to afford a tree and a gift, not this year any way.

  We did our shopping and each of us was to purchase a practical gift to be opened on Christmas morning. I could not sleep that night thinking we still did not have a tree. I rounded up some wire hangers (Joan Crawford would have loved it!) and bent them into the shape of a tree and covered it with aluminum foil and decorated it with some earrings I had brought with me. I carefully punched holes in the foil and placed it near a night-light. There, I had my decorated tree with lights. I placed our two gifts that were neatly wrapped by the store around it.

  The next morning, my husband smiled. He said, “Well, I see you got your tree!” We prepared our Christmas dinner of a small roasted chicken, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, corn and a Mrs. Smith’s look-alike apple pie. It turned out to be a Christmas I will always treasure. Oh, the gifts... I opened my gift and found a large bath towel with the word HIS on it. Dan opened his and yes, his gift was a large bath towel with the word HERS on it. For thirty-five years, we are still HIS and HERS, although our gifts are not as practical. That first year we truly learned the true meaning of Christmas.

  Christmas 2003

  Dearest Mom,

  This will be the first Christmas I haven’t been able to visit or call you and tell you about my day. It often seems as if you’re at the other end of the phone line and I just don’t take time to call. It’s not because I don’t have a hole in my heart you used to fill. I miss you every day. But life goes on, and my life has blossomed in ways I only dreamed about. I know you would be happy because you always cared about my happiness.