Ms. Bonnie--
A fine story from a fine lady!

I can't really select one particular Christmas, because, in my family, they were all special. My mother had a special gift for magic in general, and Christmas was a particularly magical time. I remember that she pinned small sleigh bells on the inside hem of her skirt, so that every movement she made was accompanied by a sort of whispered jingling. She trod so softly that, for most of the year, we could not hear moving around the house, but during the Christmas season the little four-room house was filled with that soft music.

In an interesting commingling of traditions, she told me that her people believed that on Christmas Eve, just at midnight, the deer in the forest dropped to their knees and looked heavenward toward the Great Spirit, and my grandpa Foster told me that at midnight on Old Christmas Eve all animals could speak to each other in the same language, and that they discussed their masters on this magic night, just as the animals in the stable at Bethlehem discussed their young master on that night so very long ago. Later, researching material to emcee a Christmas special for public television, I ran across the following:

CHRISTMAS IN THE WOODS (Frances Frost)

Tonight when the hoar frost falls on the wood,
And the rabbit cowers, and the squirrel is cold,
And the horned owl huddles against a star,
And the drifts are deep, and the year is old,
All shy creatures will think of Him.
The shivering mouse, the hare, the wild young fox,
The doe with the startled fawn,
Will dream of gentleness and a Child.
The buck with budding horns will turn
His starry eyes to a silver hill tonight,
The chipmunk will awake and stir
And leave his burrow for the chill dark midnight,
And all timid things will pause and sigh, and sighing, bless
That Child who loves the trembling hearts,
The shy hearts of the wilderness.

I apologize for the long post. Happy Holidays, everybody.

Bill Foster