End of the Line

Chapter Nineteen. First Christmas

Chapter Nineteen

First Christmas 

Bill was quite concerned. Did Father Christmas come to Canada? He couldn't be sure. His school friend Fritz was also worried, but he was concerned about the navigational skills of some fellow called Kris Kringle. The girls in school were quite confident that they would receive a flying visit from some chap called Santa Claus, and they told him that Pere Noel brought gifts to the French. None of them had heard of Father Christmas however. It was worrying, but from the spate of unusual activities around the farm, Bill knew that his family intended to maintain their Christmas traditions in this new land. 

Christmas Eve was on a Friday that first year. Bill awoke early to the clatter of pans and the mouth-watering smell of mincemeat wafting up from the kitchen. Preparations for the feast were well in hand. He glanced out of the dorm window. Fresh snow had fallen overnight, only a dusting over the frozen crust of previous heavy falls, not enough to hamper their trip to the pine forest.  

Dan had already breakfasted, and was waiting anxiously for Bill and Betty in the kitchen. He claimed that he had urgent business to attend to in Knowlton, and needed to be there by noon. Pop worried that this so-called business might involve a little liquid refreshment. His mother however believed that it was probably a last ditch effort to find a suitable present. Belle alone knew that he had arranged to meet with Jean Colton, a local girl of dubious reputation, and smiled inwardly as her brother rushed the kids through their morning meal. 

Bill and Betty, both bundled up to counter a bone chilling nor'wester, sat huddled together on the toboggan and marvelled at the ease with which Dan was able to pull them up the incline of the upper pasture towards the pines. The woods were eerily silent, no birds sang, and despite the plethora of recent tracks, no animals were sighted as they searched for a suitable tree. The misshapen pines within the forest bore broad patches of brown needles, probably because of a lack of sunlight, so they restricted their search to the fringe. There they found the ideal tree, slightly taller than Dan, with a perfect conical shape. 

Dan quickly cut the tree, tied it lengthwise on the toboggan, and then joined Bill and Betty in a search for sprigs of evergreen suitable for decoration. This proved quite disappointing as the only holly bush they found was devoid of berries, and Dan's hunt for mistletoe proved futile. They did however find ivy in abundance. 

On return to the farm, Dan with George's assistance, hauled the tree in to position in front of the parlour bay window. He placed the bottom of the tree in a bucket, and attempted to keep it vertical as George surrounded the trunk with small rocks. This proved to be no easy task as the tree that appeared at first glance to have perfect symmetry revealed an alarming tendency to lean. The rocks alone did not suffice. Only by attaching an unsightly rope from the tree to a hook in the ceiling, was the tree eventually aligned correctly. Flustered by the delay that had ensued, Dan made a hurried exit, promising that he would be back in time for Christmas supper. 

After a soup and sandwich lunch, they spent the afternoon decorating the house. Over the years, the Macleans had acquired a dazzling variety of Christmas decorations. Soon streamers, paper bells and tinsel ornaments festooned the parlour. Meg and her mother proved quite adept at constructing decorative wreaths using brightly coloured ribbons and the sprigs of pine and ivy collected that morning. Soon every exterior door, including that of the outhouse, bore samples of their handiwork. They mutually agreed to trim the tree after supper. 

With the decorations satisfactorily hung, it was time for everyone with the exception of Bill and Betty to wrap their presents. Left to their own devices, the two children wandered in to the kitchen. Freshly made mince pies, slabs of gingerbread, a huge Christmas cake, several jellies including Bill's favourite lime, and what looked like raspberry blancmange lay on the counter top. Bill was sorely tempted. The jelly and the blancmange were obviously out of the question but nobody would miss a mince pie. He reached for one.