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11:01:37 p.m.
Dec. 21, 2001
When I was 5, I went to bed on Christmas Eve determined to wait out the long night and to see Santa and his reindeer. I had thought a long time about where on my grandparents’ roof he could possibly land and the only logical place was on the summer porch right outside my bedroom window.
So I lay in bed waiting and then worrying that he would not come if I stayed awake. Eventually, as 5-year-olds are wont to do, I slept that night, bounding out of bed at first light and running to the window to see if, at the very least, I could see sleigh tracks and impressions of dancing reindeer feet.
I could not.
Then I raced down the stairs and found, to my delight and disappointment, that he had to have come because of the toys and packages under the tree and stockings hanging by the fireplace. Oh, the magic!
Some years later, from the playground, I think, I found out about Santa and was just crushed. It was wondrous to imagine a man who raced through a starry sky to stop at every house in the world and deliver toys. Christmas, my Nana explained, was not about that. It’s a spirit ... giving, sharing, being, thanking, friendships, memories, traditions.
Every Christmas, I wake up and think back to that long ago morning, musing in the first light just where Santa would land his sleigh on my roof. I don’t rush out of bed, however, to see what is under the tree.
The magic is in my mind and its about my little family; the old friends who have stayed the course these many years and the ones who have joined the path at various junctures. Some are on their way to becoming old and dear, while others were on the journey for a short time, making an impact, before moving on. Within the circle there are those who stand by, who cheer, who cajole, who listen, who praise, who help, and, this year, have reached out across the years and miles to reacquaint ...
And without them, there would be no magic. I am so grateful to you all.
Merry Christmas, kind friends, and the happiest of New Years.
Let it snow ... please?
8:38:23 p.m.
Dec. 16, 2001
My neighbor, Aaron, had a bucket truck parked in the driveway Friday night, so I knew he would be stringing the Christmas lights in town sometime on Saturday.
``Let me know when youre going to do it,`` I said to him.
``Oh, youll know,`` he said.
Sure enough, he drives by yesterday morning, giving a long yank on the air horn. Aaron knows his way around big toys.
He untangled miles of lights that morning and draped them around the stately evergreen in Soldiers and Cascade Parks. If you ask me, the holiday season is as bright as it can be now. The Woodstock Inn and Station are aglow with lights. Charlies barbershop is decked out, as are the other shops along Main Street. How nice that these dark nights are so brightened.
The weather has finally turned cold and we got an ever so slight dusting of snow Friday. Clouds swirled around the higher elevations yesterday morning, with sun trying mightily to gain the upper hand.
I gave Aaron my camera to get some birds eye shots of North Woodstock. It was a good excuse for him to extend the bucket as high as it would go. Thank you, Ill pass on going that high.
It was marvelous timing, as the sun washed over Franconia Notch and peaks to the south, before lighting up Main Street. Aaron got some nice shots and I hope you enjoy the one of the church.
I went south to see friends and do a bit more holiday shopping after that. Once in a while, it is nice to get out of town, but it is always nice to return north. Night now comes so early, that by the time I drove home, it was pitch black, yet still fairly early. There were stretches of I-93 north of Plymouth that were dark and empty.
But here and there, were lights - from the highway, the street lights of Campton and Thornton, Woodstock and Lincoln. Through the trees, winking Christmas tree lights and candles in the window gave a welcome. And above it all, so, too, was the outline of the mountains, with faint starlight above them.
Its beginning to look a lot like Christmas here and thank you for unwrapping yourself from pretty paper and bows to make a quick visit. Please send this holiday card to your friends and family and drop a line to get added to my mailing list.
The question now is whether it will be a white Christmas. Snows on the way tomorrow, so it just might be ...
It's just not Christmas until the kids sing 'Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer' at the top of their little lungs
9:29:16 p.m.
Dec. 9, 2001
Just after all the bright and wonderful lights winked on and just before the snow started falling last night, the local Boy and Girls Scouts went about delivering a bit of holiday cheer to our elder citizens here in North Woodstock, and those in neighboring Lincoln.
It was as fun and festive night as it has been for the past dozen or so years this tradition has been around. It began after town employees decided to do something for the community in place of an annual Christmas party. This is a community effort by the police and fire departments, as well as local businesses, to make sure that older residents who live alone or far from their families aren’t forgotten in the busy holiday season.
Sgt. Barbie Mack-Keaney organizes the event and has done some tweaking of it over the years. The first year, deliveries were made by sleigh, but it took too long to go around town. The second year, they tried a fire truck.
``The fire department got a call in the middle of it and if you ever stood on the back of a fire truck...it gets pretty cold,`` she recalled with a laugh.
In the third outing, the group piled into the police department’s box truck.
``There weren’t any windows in it and you could hear it backing up. All of a sudden, someone would open the doors and we’d step out singing,`` she said.
About five years ago, youngsters got involved and now there’s a sort of convey, led by a police vehicle, that stops at the homes of these older residents. Outside lights flick on and voices, endearingly off-key, sing a holiday song while dinner and a fruit basket are given.
Mack-Keaney grew up in town and she remembers these residents from the time she was the age of the Scouts she escorts. Along Main Street to Lost River Road, down Route 175, as far out as Thornton Gore, she knows everyone. Those scouts who travel with her get a lesson about these people who made their mark on the community over the course of a life time. She tells of the blind man who was the janitor at the local school who kept the halls spotless through his sense of touch; the couple who ran the post office from behind their house; the 90-year-old woman who still volunteers in a nursing home four days a week; the woman who owned the general store she once shoplifted a paperweight - and then worked for a month to pay off the debt.
And she gently tells them of the sorrows they may have endured, of illness and the death of their loved ones.
Some folks are delighted for the interruption on a winter’s night, opening their door to the children long before they reach it. Others are a bit uncomfortable, noting there are those in need of this meal and this cheer.
The night is not about charity or pity. Simply, if you lived here and loved here and lost a loved one, you are remembered, without fail, during the most festive time of year.
Their mission accomplished, the children pile into the cars and set out for the next house. Mrs. Rand always gives a bag of candy to the group, for the cookie and hot chocolate party after the deliveries are made. Everyone says thank you, some sing along with kids. One man stands in the doorway of his home, watching them retreat in the frosty darkness until the last car heads down the road.
It’s Christmas time in North Woodstock and thanks for stopping by on this nippy night, especially if this is your first visit. I invite you to sign the guestbook or drop an email to get on my mailing list. This page is updated once a week on Sundays.
Lorna
