Christmas 1844

Christmas Eve the girls at the Columbian Female Academy perform German, English, and Spanish songs near the Christmas tree, a new decoration in 1844. Then the girls go caroling through the streets while in search of a Black family that adopted a baby. They take a basket of food and eventually find the carpenter’s house. Yes, this shouts Las Posadas! These characters and their songs circle back to deliver hope and comfort in bad times. Like breathing, a story sighs with nature’s cycles. I adore my cultural history for giving me so much.

Featured Photo by Ray Hennessy on Unsplash

     After we all cried through Silent Night, Mrs. Starr changed her mind. “If you find the family with that new baby, you can take a basket of eggs and some little things they might need from our pantry, but you have to get approval from Miss Adele in the kitchen.”
     “Yes, Ma’am!” I went directly to the kitchen but did not see Miss Adele. Quickly, I took a basket, three eggs from the wood-ash box, and a jar of pickles from the pantry. Adele appeared and spooked me. Apologetic, I said, “They’re for a family I know on Cherry Lane. They took in an orphan child whose mother I knew.”
     Adele took a larger basket and added bread, cheese, and another three eggs. She let me take her hand in gratitude and then pushed me back just as Hester had. “Let’s walk together and invite the other girls to come and sing.”
     “Las Posadas!” called out Antonia. 
     The moon was full and we carried our lamps with high spirits. The North Star was bright as our boots crunched the snow on Cherry Lane. People came out of their houses to hear us sing. Our favorite was about a flower in the snow.  
          Lo, how a rose e’re blooming
          From tender stem hath sprung!
          Of Jesse's lineage coming
          As men of old have sung.
          It came, a flower bright
          Amid the cold of winter
          When half-gone was the night.
At the end of each verse, I asked about the family on Cherry Lane with a new baby. Some gave us cookies and dried fruit that we added to the basket. 
     It was getting late and most of the young ladies returned to the Academy. Miss Adele, Miss Antonia, and I walked on holding our heavy woolen scarves against the cold. We found the family in the last house, and we heard a healthy infant cry inside. The man at the door said his son’s name was Nathan Ebenezer, yes a surviving twin. The father took the basket in his heavy hands. We rubbed our mittens and stomped our feet while he went to the kitchen. He returned and handed back the empty basket and smiled under the ancient stars. 

The Compromise, “The Stable Boy, 1844-45”

Nothing is new under the sun or the stars.

Recycling cultural content risks being a blatant cliche. Yes. Maybe. I hope a few elements keep this recycling from being an author’s greatest wickedness– cliched! First, this story happens repeatedly all its own and does not need us to worry about repeating it– a mother dies in childbirth and a different family’s newborn dies around the same time. Though tragic, the loss to one is gain to another. No, this is not a cliche to avoid. The inciting event, a term much used in describing fiction, is the song. Mrs. Starr changes her mind and lets the girls give food to the family in need. How many of us have let our hearts melt while voices sing with sadness and joy? No, this is not a cliche I could ever be ashamed of. People make choices to give help or receive it, and good-will of all sorts changes the air around us. Finally, at the end of the scene, the heavy hands and the empty basket, the cry, the cold, the father’s smile, and the ancient stars come one by one. If this is a dot-to-dot activity for the reader’s mind, so be it. Nothing is new.