December 4, 2018

Christmas Story

As I was growing up on the farm, Christmas time was both a lot of hard work and a lot of joy. If the weather was cold and snowy, it meant for extra work to keep the animals warm. One evening during Christmas season, I was carrying hot water to the chicken house. While hurrying to get out of the cutting wind, my rubber boots slipped on the ice. Time briefly slowed down as my rubber boots slid out from under me across the snow-dusted ice. Desperately trying to regain control, my free arm swung around like a windmill, and the other tried to stabilize by gripping the handle of sloshing bucket even more tightly. As gravity proved its inexorable power, I soon realized my efforts to stay upright were going horribly awry: my youthful rear end landed squarely in the bucket!

Soaking wet, I desperately wanted to change into dry clothes, but I didn’t have many chores left and knew it would be faster to just finish.  After I regained my wits, I filled up a new bucket of hot water and more gingerly delivered it to the chickens. By the time I got to the chicken house, I was moving like that alien robot I had seen in a summer drive-in movie.

Finally finished, I was so grateful for the warmth of the house, but I felt dismayed to learn my pants were completely frozen solid and I could not get them off! One of my older brothers informed me, with a twinkle in his eye, that I would have to wait with them on while I thawed. Teeth chattering, I was not excited by this plan. Eventually, I finagled myself where I was lying down on the mudroom floor. Only then was I able to wiggle out of my frozen trousers, a predicament my family later found hilarious.

Every Christmas Eve, we celebrated with a family gathering. After all the evening chores were done, we would sit down to an amazingly bountiful traditional meal. My mom and aunts never disappointed! But when I was really young, I hardly ate anything from that glorious spread—because after the meal we would open presents.

When I was four years old, a surprise knock on the door led to a visit from Santa! However, Santa gave me a very hard time. I distinctly remember him telling me the reindeer were eating corn out of our corn crib, and he didn’t think there would be enough for the dairy cows. I was so worried that I almost didn’t open my presents. For days I looked and looked for Rudolph’s red nose among our animals at the feed bunk.

Although it’s been a long time since Santa’s knock interrupted my family’s holiday meal, I still realize today how important family is during this special time of year. From my family to yours, thank you for your patronage this past year of family farms, including our family farm, Cinnamon Ridge. Our whole family works hard through winter’s chill and summer’s heat to provide wholesome and delicious products at all the places Cinnamon Ridge products can be found. We hope our efforts bless your family. May you all have a blessed Christmas and a prosperous New Year.

Filed Under: Humor

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