Homemade Silver Bells

The Plan

The winter days of my childhood are full of fond family memories. Being born in Up State New York, into a family which grew to five other children, my parents persevered. As many did in those days. Daily overcoming the great difficulties of living in harsh conditions, with large families to provide and tend to, our families were survivors. I know now it was only by the Grace of God we succeeded.

The days of my youth were always planned out. Planned when to get up, planned when to go to school, planned when to work, it was planned when to eat and planned when to play. Every moment was a plan. I went to bed at nine, it was planned. Everything was planned. I don't mean for this to sound so mundane or heartless , it wasn't, it just was the way our life was then.

In the summers, we planned a day for the family reunion, usually the week after July fourth. It was a great plan! We always were excited to see our cousins again and we loved picnics! Our whole family on my Dad's side would plan to attend. Aunts and uncles would play softball with us, we tossed eggs with a partner and an hour after we ate, we swam in Lake Ontario. Yikes! That lake was always too cold for swimming in! But if you didn't get in, one of the uncles were sure to throw you in! Once us cousins became completely numb from the neck down, we would inspect one another's lips for the shades of blue color. "Are my lips blue yet?" someone would ask the other. "Yep! They are almost purple!", and that was always the sign it was time to get out and warm up! We loved the Family Reunion and always went home laughing and tired, as we shared our stories of the day with each other.

In the late summer days, the plan was to prepare for the harsh winter that was ahead of us. Our family spent these days picking the vegetables from the garden we helped Dad plant earlier that summer. Walking in his foot steps we pushed the seed into the ground. It was a long stretch for me and my little brothers, as Dad's stride was far apart for a young child. Walking amongst the fresh tilled garden dirt wasn't an easy task either. It was important for us to step on the seed he tossed down behind him. He stepped into the mound of dirt, dropped the seed in his foot print and we walked behind him to step it into the ground, being sure it was completely covered. Dad would remind us. My oldest sister and I ate more green beans then we picked and Mom couldn't wait to seal the last canning jar! By the time we were finished we had picked bushels of apples, pears, cram apples, cherries, grapes, rhubarb, peas, carrots, corn, lettuce, onions, potatoes and much more, I'm sure! We had Apple Cider and apple sauce and grape jelly! We had a cellar full of goodies and we couldn't wait to taste them! Mom's Cinnamon Apple Sauce was the best!

Once that plan was completed we moved onto the next plan, firewood! We carried fire wood to the trailer after Dad cut it up with the chain saw and Mom chopped it into smaller pieces. My two brothers are each a year and two years younger than I and we worked together as a team on most days. We took turns loading each others arms, three pieces each of chopped wood. Trying to not get a splinter and keeping our hands warm from the cold, we loaded and lugged wood for hours, and then days! The day was over in the woods when Dad would pull the trailer home for the last time with the tractor. Usually about dark, we were whipped and couldn't wait to get that thing unloaded! Once there, we would form a human chain and toss the wood into the cellar or out back along the garage wall, depending if we had snowfall yet. My younger sisters were still very little and unable to do too much, although they did try to help when Mom was out there with us.

By late October we were already getting colder weather. The plan was coming together. One of the last deeds before we sheltered away for winter was to fill the freezer with meat. This meant it was time to butcher. We butchered our pig and one winter, our chickens. Once the dirty deed was done our kitchen became a meat packing plant. Each of us took a station. Dad cut the meat into sections and we all took turns, cubing the meat and the fat, grinding and packaging, labeling and dating. The kitchen table was covered in piles of meat waiting to be tended to. Mom would always cook us up some fresh made sausage and it was delicious. We packed up beef, pork and sometimes a little venison. The freezer was full of sausage, bacon, pork roasts and beef roasts, stew meat and hamburger. Mom had plenty of lard, which I hated to eat. It was disgusting and that's why I hated dough fritters! Because they were fried in pig lard! Yuck! But my brothers loved them. So when Mom made Bean Soup and Dough Fritters, I skipped dinner!

Our winter chores were over except shoveling snow and kitchen duty. I dried dishes and my oldest sister washed. We both set the table and were required to be in the kitchen if Mom was cooking! Not "If" Mom was cooking, but "When" Mom was cooking. Mom always cooked. Except Sunday nights, She would cook a large dinner in the afternoon and super was popcorn and soda, or Kool-Aid if we were out.

The weather became frigid as the cold artic blew in. My brothers spent their weekends helping Dad in the garage in between meals. So after super dishes were dried and put away, I'd go out to the garage to spend time with them. There we watched Dad tare vehicles apart and make difficult decisions as to how fix the latest family emergency! Dad could fix a vehicle like nothing you tube has ever seen! Dad was google in those days! Everyone came to him for car repairs and we always got what our family was needing out of the deal! If we needed a TV cause ours wasn't working or the volume was all that worked, we got a TV. Even if the TV in the deal could only give us a picture, we got it! I remember once getting two TVs. One for the volume, a small TV that sat upon the bigger TV that had the picture which was working. Using them together we had TV. You put both systems on the same channel, one gave volume and the other gave the picture! Now, its funny to talk about but that was the way of life back then.

Every year before Christmas, Dad would get us a Christmas Tree out of the deal. This was the best plan! Our distant neighbor had fields of Christmas trees behind his house and he always had a car that needed repairs. So once the deal was made and Dad completed the work, we planned an afternoon to go pick out a tree. Us older kids would set out tramping through the snow, following my Dad. Bundled up and trying to keep up, we would track out back of our house, through fields of snow and drifts. Sometimes able to step on the snow and sometimes falling through the crispy tundra. We wrangled a real long ways until we reached the neighbors field of trees. Cold to the bone but so excited to pick out our next tree, Dad would begin to gage the height of them. Then we had to be sure it was a full tree. Soon he was cutting our favorite tree down and we were heading back home. Singing and joyfully talking about our tree, we traipsed back single file, retracing our path, not thinking of the cold any longer.

A ways off, we could see Mom on the back steps, trying to inspect our tree wisely from her distance. She already knew it was too big to get in the living room and informed Dad of it! Still Dad, the tree and us kids swoosh past her, smiling, as Dad reassured her it would be fine! He'd make it fit! My sisters were joining in the excitement as we brushed passed pass them with the massive tree, while my brothers were sent to find a saw. Mom was right for sure! This tree was way to tall for our ceiling! They always were too tall! Not to worry though, Dad sawed and trimmed that tree to the perfect size, as Mom tried not to fuss over all the sap on the floor! Soon the lights and popcorn strands were strung and we were singing Jingle Bells., dreaming of all the wonderful gifts we wanted for Christmas. Hot cocoa with marsh mellow smiles, my little sisters made tinsel dance upon the branches. Pine cones and homemade silver bells, adorned with red pipe cleaners as hooks, were just like my grandma's decorations. Silver Bells made of egg cartons covered in tin foil, pine cones fresh from the out doors and many other homemade ornaments from Christmas's past swung from the tree branches. Years later, I still think of these memories as we decorate our tree. If I close my eyes I can see it replay over and over and I can still hear the beautiful voice of my grandma as she would sing us "Silver Bells" .
Our Christmas Tree was decorated in love and that was my parents greatest plan of all!