By Menno Fast – Winkler, Man.
My best Christmas was in 1942 when I was 10 years old. We had a wonderful program in the two-room Passchendale School I attended for eight years, near Hague, Sask. A big plank platform was set up as a stage and we students sang our songs, had our plays, and recited our poems. A big spruce tree with real candles clipped onto the tree branches made a perfect Christmas Eve setting.
Gifts were exchanged and a big bag of goodies was given to all students and preschoolers. Many poor families had no money to spend, so this was a great treat for them. The Eaton’s catalogue toy section was a special dream world for thousands of poor children during the Depression.
After the school program, we were very excited. Before going to sleep, we placed seven enamel bowls on the living room chairs and sofa, instead of hanging stockings.
All was well on our farm four miles west of Hague on that special Christmas morning so long ago. Imagine the scene with me… it’s five a.m., 30 below zero, a clear sky with a lovely full moon, and millions of stars twinkling so perfectly. The Milky Way visible right on top is huge and glittering.
Wishes came true
My two little brothers and four sisters lined up at the closed living room door with me. Finally, after what seemed like forever, my parents told me to open the door and look at our gifts. I opened the door and my big wish had come true!
A brand new red CCM bicycle was standing in the middle of all the other gifts. I wish I had a picture of my face at that moment. Father had also cut two big wooden horses out of 12-inch planks, shaped them nicely and made leather harnesses and a big sleigh for me and my younger brothers.
As dairy farmers, we always started milking our herd of Holstein cows at 6 a.m. I headed for the barn, milked 20 or more cows, cleaned the gutters, fed the calves, chickens, and pigs, then went in for breakfast at 7:30 a.m.
Around 10 a.m., the whole family got into our warm and cozy two-seat closed-in sleigh and drove two miles to my grandparents’ place in Hockfeld, close to Hague. The sleigh had a small wood heater with three-inch smoke pipe through the roof.
Ate their fill
We unhitched the horses and led them into their huge 100-foot barn. A large kerosene lantern was the only light and would slide along a heavy wire to wherever light was needed. There was no electricity unless you made your own electric charging plant, like dad did. (I still love that green hay smell in old barns!)
Our Christmas dinner at noon was great. Close to 50 adults and children we fed until they could eat no more. First all the men ate at the long table, then the women, then the children. Nobody complained about waiting their turn because it would result in unwanted discipline at home later.
We had baked ham, smoked farmer sausage, potato salad, vegetables, and tangy sauerkraut from five-gallon crocks. One special dish was plum mousse – loaded with dried prunes, apricots, dried apples, and raisins boiled and thickened with cornstarch.
Driving home after dark was a scene I’ll never forget. The northern lights were flashing in all colors across most of the sky. Before dad built the closed-in sleigh, we always used an open sleigh and the winter scenes were terrific!
Dozens of white jackrabbits played their running games all night. Our big horse bells chimed clearly as the horses trotted along. You could hear them from far away. Christmas day was over and we were soon enough waiting for the next year’s celebration.
