Christmas at our home began on Christmas Eve morning, one I remember well. My sister, Dad and I took the sled and went to the forest behind our home and found a nice tree. Dad cut it down and we took it home and it was decorated with homemade ornaments. Since no one had electricity, there were no lights. In the evening we could hardly stand the excitement as we were told we could go to Midnight Mass, which was by horse and sled, the children sat on the floor with straw and warm blankets wrapped around them. It was seven miles, I remember. Everyone kind of left at the same time, with bells on the harness of the horses. We were so happy. We went to the main church; the horses were tied up to the trees, blankets from the sled were put on them while we were in church. The church had large white pillars inside with fir boughs fastened around all the way up. The altar was lit up with lots of candles, the choir sang.
If I close my eyes, I can almost hear it again. When I went home again, we went to the same church. It now is a landmark, everything looked exactly the same.
At Christmas today, I bring out my memories and feel I’ve lived one hundred years, then put them away in a special place in my heart until next year.
Happy Holidays to all.
Note: Mary was born and raised on the island of Newfoundland which was a British Colony until March 1949.