"What is
Christmas? It is tenderness for the past, courage for the
present, hope for the future. It is a fervent wish that every
cup may overflow with the blessings rich and eternal, and that every
path may lead to peace." ~ Agnes M. Pharo
Good
Morning!
My mom began
creating a Family
Christmas book to collect our holiday recipes and stories. This family story, titled
“The Woman and the
Postman” is one I wanted to share with you this Thanksgiving season.
Once again the
tiny, rural post
office in our Northwood’s Wisconsin town had been properly notified.
The Postmaster, simply known as John, had
received his yearly letter (addresses to “John” – first name only –
“Post
Office” – no street and number, no zip code, only the word “Town”)
asking him to
select five little girls “from Santa’s List” who would love to receive
a
Christmas Doll. Now, John knew
everything and everybody – if you want to find out something, or get
the local
scuttlebutt, you went to John – so he went about checking his postal
routes,
making his recommendations, and had the season’s list secretly
delivered to the
woman.
From about
November 1st
on, the woman’s dining room table became covered with snippets of lace
and
ribbons, buttons and bows, velvets and satins – along with the five
Madame
Alexander dolls that had been ordered that year through the mail.
Her needles and
thread in hand, and
an old Singer sewing machine by her side, the woman began to weave her
yearly
Christmas magic. Party
clothes,
sportswear, ball gowns, warm winter coats – she fashioned them all –
until each
doll had a wardrobe beyond any girl’s dreams.
A week before
Christmas, she would
have the dolls delivered to the stoop of the Post Office, beautifully
wrapped
and tagged for each child with a note from Santa. John would
notify the families that a special
package had arrived and needed to be picked up, before he closed on
Christmas
Eve.
The week after
Christmas, John
would usually receive a thankyou note, or two, or three, that needed to
be
delivered in return. Sworn
to secrecy,
he would pass on the child-scribbled notes to “whom it may concern.”
Them one fall a
funeral came to
pass. November came and went, and the
list hadn’t been asked for. The
Christmas dolls didn’t arrive, and the magic faded. Not long
after that, John put in for
retirement. The post office became
renovated, with zip codes + 4, and automated sorter, updated routing
and regulations,
and rules too numerous to count or accept; a new postman was brought in
from
the city – all in the name of “progress.”
Still bound by his oath of secrecy, John’s knowledge about the woman
and
the dolls retired with him.
Every year, when
we’d go to my aunt’s
for Thanksgiving dinner, I’d always notice that her table had been
cleared of a
dewing project. She would set a fine
table and our family would eat and feast until we could barely eat any
more. And then, over her delicious
pumpkin pie, my talk would turn to speculation about the mystery dolls
that
would surely arrive (just as mine had) at the post office – just in
time for
Christmas. My Aunt Joan would just give
me a wink and her yearly reply, “Surely, my dear, you’ll have another
piece of
pie.”
Your Turn: While in the hustle and bustle
of daily like,
we often think that life is about gain, or accomplishment, or
maintaining the status
quo.
It isn’t.
Life is about relationships, about love, about kindness, about
caring. Those are the moments we all
long for more of. As we move through the
Thanksgiving season, remember what life is truly about. Find
a way to “invisibly bless” someone.
Today’s Affirmation: I build blessings
into every day.
