Trailer Wife

DAY TEN: Christmas on the Prairie

Though I longed for (and got) a boy child, there are two reason I would have been okay with having a girl: 1) striped tights and 2) The Laura Ingalls Wilder "Little House" collection. After borrowing these books from the library countless times, my parents finally got the picture and bought me my own set the Christmas I was twelve. (Check out those sweet bangs) I lived and breathed these books for months. I remember telling my mother, in all seriousness, that I had been born in the wrong century.

My favorite parts of the Little House oeuvre were about winter, when the whole family was holed up in the little cabin, whittling things and staring at Ma's beautiful China Woman on the beautiful star bracket Pa made. I wanted TO BE Laura, getting caught up in those wonderful snowy bear hugs when Pa came in from milking the cows. To this day, I think I was probably a farmer in a former life.





Here is my favorite Christmas passage, from Little House in the Big Woods.

In each stocking there was a pair of bright red mitten, and there was a long, flat stick of red-and-white-striped peppermint candy, all beautifully notched along each side. They were all so happy they could hardly speak at first. They just looked with shining eyes at those lovely Christmas presents. But Laura was happiest of all. Laura had a rag doll.

She was a beautiful doll. She had a face of white cloth with black button eyes. A black pencil had made her eyebrows, and her checks and her mouth were red with the ink made from pokeberries. Her hair was black yard that had been knit and raveled so that it was curly. She had little red flannel stockings and little black cloth gaiters for shoes, and her dress was pretty pink and blue calico. She was so beautiful that Laura could not say a word. She just held her tight and forgot everything else.