Riddle Riddle Ree...What Do I See?
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Looking at this ornament hanging on my Christmas Tree and hearing the song "I'll Be Home for Christmas, If Only in My Dreams" reminded me of the memories of Christmas from my childhood.
My Grandparent's farm house was heated with a wood stove, but the love in their house was more than enough to warm your heart and soul. The trip to their house always seemed so long, but when we turned off the main road to the farm we knew familiar sights and sounds were around the bend.
The road we traveled into the farm was rough. The road started out smooth with a few rough spots. And depending on the year and the weather the road could be rougher as we traveled into the farm. I remember one year the middle section of the road was washed away. It took some time but we made it over that part with my Dad's gentle guidance and patience.
Then the creek would come into sight. Again, some years the journey over the creek was easy. The creek bed would be dry for a quick journey. The creek could be damaged by bad storms during the year. The creek could be rushing with water that could add danger and peril to our journey. Or the year that created a lot of headaches was when the creek was frozen over. That year there where flat tires and worst of all my Dad's car suffered a punctured gas tank. But that became the best thing that could have happen, because of the damage to the car my Dad had to spend the week in the county with my grandparents. I would be the last Christmas my Dad spent with his father. My Grandpa Riedel died the next year.
The creek couldn't stop our journey. We would turn left into the thicket of trees and splash once more through a small creek. We had to be prepared and ready, as before the rains could have made the small splash a big drop. Through the thicket we would travel up the hill and hope that it had not overgrown in the Autumn months. Some years, especially toward the end of my Papaw's life, my Papaw would not feel up to clearing the road for our return home. We would have to work a little hard to get to his house.
Finally, we would reach the gate. The card would stop and one of the children would jump out of the car to open the gate. Now this was an important task. Opening the gate was not easy. The rock in the road was creek rock and was slippery and we had to be careful of the mud. We did not want to get stuck in the mud on such and important day. When we reached the gate we had to reach through the cold metal gate, unwrap the chain, and unhook the latch. As we unhooked the gate we could barely see the farm house and the smoke from the stove. We could also hear in the distance someone behind us on the road making the same journey. With anticipation we would wonder who it was. And wonder if they were having the same troubles on their journey or was their journey home smoother. The gate would slowly start to swing open. One dry days we would jump on the gate and let it take us for a ride across the rock road. We would glide across and jump off on the side of the road holding the gate open so our family could pass safely through.
The car would stop on the other side of the gate to wait for us to shut the gate, the entrance to home.
On cold days we would climb back into the warm car with our family continue on the journey. But on those rare warm December days in Kentucky, we would opt to walk that rocky road. The hill up to the farm house was steep, but rather if we were in the car or on foot the journey was easy knowing that the warmth of the farm house awaited. If we walked up the hill we cut part of the journey short by cutting through the field. By car we could easily make it up the hill. We still had to be cautious to ensure there where not pot holes ahead. Once at the top of the hill we would park at the barn. As we got out of the car it was exciting to see who had arrived before us. The children would run to the house with excitement of seeing their family. The adults would carry their load of presents, food or anything else they needed and could not let go.
The farm house was protected by a fence and a gate. Opening the gate and crossing the stone path to the wooden porch gave us a sense of relief that the journey was almost over. The screen door squeaked as it was open and the old wooden farm house door swung easily open to reveal the light and warmth of the house. Papaw would be sitting directly across the room from the door in a wooden chair listening to the news on the radio. We would catch a glimpse of ourselves in the mirror above him as we were greeted by a few choice words. Our Pawpaw had a gruff exterior but all along we knew that the love of the world was inside his heart.
The smell of the stove would catch your attention as we saw Mamaw getting read for the arrival of her children with a feast. Mamaw strong stature was soften by her warm eyes and gentle smile. She had toughen up over the years raising her children and working the farm. She did not have an easy or fancy life, but she had a life full of joy, love and most importantly faith.
The laughter drew you into the dining room to see your family gathered. Everyone was sharing stories about their journey over the past year.
It would be time to gather for prayer and thank the Lord for our blessings. The man would sit for the first meal serving. The children would be served and sent to the back room to eat. We spent the time eating and laughing at anything. The room we sat in was a bedroom closed off for the winter, but with all my cousins it was full of warmth. The women would eat last after the men finished. Since my Dad was a talker, he continued his meal with the women.
The present portion of Christmas was not important. I hardly and vaguely remember that part. The most important part was that we were in a home filled with warmth and love surrounded by our family.
As I reflect on my Christmas memories, I know that my Christmas journey mirrors my journey in life.
The road may be rough at times but as long as we have our family we can make it to our final destination. If we keep the vision of the final destination in our mind we will have the strength to make the journey. Because when we reach that last gate and travel up the hill to our home we will be tired. But all our pain and fatigue will disappear when we open that door and see Papaw sitting there as we catch a glimpse of our reflection in him. And we will be comforted as we hear the laughter of all those that arrived home before us.
Merry Christmas.
