A memorable and special Christmas

Christmas of 1953 was, for me, a lesson in sharing and caring. It was during the Great Depression that my parents moved from Wyoming to Bonner County in 1936. There were friends who joined them in their exodus; among them the family of Carrie and Irl Brown, their son, George, and nephew Ken Hinchley.

Sometime between 1936 and 1953, Ken developed a crippling disease. This prevented him from providing for his own needs, and his other family members had moved to Westport, Wash., looking for better work opportunities. And so, Ken had no family to help him. My dad said he lived at the “Poor Farm,” and he wanted to include him in our Christmas that year.

I remember that I wasn’t looking forward to including him. I was 11 that year. I may have thought that I knew a lot; but as it turned out, I was about to learn a valuable lesson of life; one that I will never forget, and a lesson that has been with me ever since, more than 70 years.

Our family was poor, as were many of our neighbors here in Pack River Valley. I don’t know how my dad was able to buy gifts for the three of us younger kids still living at home. But he did, and so we each received an amazing pair of skis. They were plain, wooden skis, nothing fancy, but we loved them.

Dad did arrange to have someone bring Ken to our place for Christmas. I don’t think we had a car that ran at the time. We were invited to our neighbors, the Burke family, for Christmas dinner. Dad was very happy and loaded up our family, including Ken, in our large sled with the team of horses for the mile or so trip through the snow. I remember we had a lot of snow that Christmas.

I don’t know if my little brother or my older sister brought along their skis, but I remember that I did. And then the most incredible thing happened: Ken suggested that he could sit on the back of the sled and reach out to me with his crutches, and I could ride on my skis ‘til we reached our destination. I was just a kid then, but I learned so much from that simple gesture that day.

We all need to have others care about us, and we all have something to contribute. That was a present I never forgot. And I was happy to be able to share Christmas with Ken. And, I was grateful to have such a kind and caring father who knew so much more than I did.

And the rest of that day was equally as memorable. Mrs. Burke created an amazing feast for our dinner with just what she had. We had a beautiful mutton roast with all the trimmings, and a pumpkin pie made with carrots (and you couldn’t tell the difference). But what I remember most was the delicious jellied candies Mrs. Burke made with just Kool-Aid and pectin. She called them candy jewels and they were exactly that. That was a Christmas of sharing and caring and one I will never forget.

MARY PANDREA

Sandpoint