A story for the last night of the year

The story of "The Little Match Girl" by Hans Christian Anderson, takes place on the last night of the year. I offer it on this last night with a story of my own. My mother was born in Kaiserslautern, Germany on March 5, 1901, emigrated with her family to the U.S. in 1911 and settled in Canton, OH. Through a series of unlikely events in her life, she met my father at Piedmont College in Demorest, Georgia in 1924 or so, they were married in Williamsburg, Kentucky in 1926 and later moved north so my father could attend seminary in Chicago. In 1941, the attack on Pearl Harbor took place when we were in Texarkana, AK, where my father was minister of a Congregational Church. He felt called to enter the army as a chaplain, and he ended up in France as chaplain of the 1314 Engineers Regiment, an all African-American regiment. Toward the end of the war, the Allied Armies "liberated" Kaiserslautern from Nazi control and since it was close to the French border, dad was able to visit it, probably in his jeep, with his driver, Alton Jones, a black enlisted man. All of this is almost like a fairy tale itself, so improbable is it. Dad sought out my mother's birthplace, 30 Steinstrasse, in Kaiserslautern, and he found there the same family that was sharing the house with my mother's family when she was born. Amazingly, they welcomed my father, despite his being an officer in the enemy army which had mercilessly bombed Kaiserslautern before defeating the Nazi's there, and they took him to the room where my mother had been born. On the wall in that room was a oil painting which had hung there back when mother was born, and they gave it to my father to take back to my mother - a portrait of "The Little Match Girl." It hung on our wall at home all through the post-war years in Minneapolis and then Anamosa, Iowa during my high school years. After my parents' deaths, my brother got it, and I saw it again on the wall of my niece, Suzanne's, home in Elgin, Illinois, where I took a picture of it. She no longer lives in Elgin - I don't know where it is today. But what a story! And here is the story of "The Little Match Girl" and some pictures.

The portrait of "The Little Match Girl" from the room where my mother was born.

The windows of the room where my mother was born in Kaiserslautern.

The German family at 30 Steinstrasse.

30 Steinstrasse, Kaiserslautern, GGermany.

My father as a chaplain.

Alton Jones, my father's driver.

My father's jeep, parked by his tent.

My mother, Olga Winter, 2nd from left, with her family, the Winters. And here is the story: THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL Hans Christian andersen Most terribly cold it was; it snowed, and was nearly quite dark, and evening--the last evening of the year. In this cold and darkness there went along the street a poor little girl, bareheaded, and with naked feet. When she left home she had slippers on, it is true; but what was the good of that? They were very large slippers, which her mother had hitherto worn; so large were they; and the poor little thing lost them as she scuffled away across the street, because of two carriages that rolled by dreadfully fast. One slipper was nowhere to be found; the other had been laid hold of by an urchin, and off he ran with it; he thought it would do capitally for a cradle when he some day or other should have children himself. So the little maiden walked on with her tiny naked feet, that were quite red and blue from cold. She carried a quantity of matches in an old apron, and she held a bundle of them in her hand. Nobody had bought anything of her the whole livelong day; no one had given her a single farthing. She crept along trembling with cold and hunger--a very picture of sorrow, the poor little thing! The flakes of snow covered her long fair hair, which fell in beautiful curls around her neck; but of that, of course, she never once now thought. From all the windows the candles were gleaming, and it smelt so deliciously of roast goose, for you know it was New Year's Eve; yes, of that she thought. In a corner formed by two houses, of which one advanced more than the other, she seated herself down and cowered together. Her little feet she had drawn close up to her, but she grew colder and colder, and to go home she did not venture, for she had not sold any matches and could not bring a farthing of money: from her father she would certainly get blows, and at home it was cold too, for above her she had only the roof, through which the wind whistled, even though the largest cracks were stopped up with straw and rags. Her little hands were almost numbed with cold. Oh! a match might afford her a world of comfort, if she only dared take a single one out of the bundle, draw it against the wall, and warm her fingers by it. She drew one out. "Rischt!" how it blazed, how it burnt! It was a warm, bright flame, like a candle, as she held her hands over it: it was a wonderful light. It seemed really to the little maiden as though she were sitting before a large iron stove, with burnished brass feet and a brass ornament at top. The fire burned with such blessed influence; it warmed so delightfully. The little girl had already stretched out her feet to warm them too; but--the small flame went out, the stove vanished: she had only the remains of the burnt-out match in her hand. She rubbed another against the wall: it burned brightly, and where the light fell on the wall, there the wall became transparent like a veil, so that she could see into the room. On the table was spread a snow-white tablecloth; upon it was a splendid porcelain service, and the roast goose was steaming famously with its stuffing of apple and dried plums. And what was still more capital to behold was, the goose hopped down from the dish, reeled about on the floor with knife and fork in its breast, till it came up to the poor little girl; when--the match went out and nothing but the thick, cold, damp wall was left behind. She lighted another match. Now there she was sitting under the most magnificent Christmas tree: it was still larger, and more decorated than the one which she had seen through the glass door in the rich merchant's house. Thousands of lights were burning on the green branches, and gaily-colored pictures, such as she had seen in the shop-windows, looked down upon her. The little maiden stretched out her hands towards them when--the match went out. The lights of the Christmas tree rose higher and higher, she saw them now as stars in heaven; one fell down and formed a long trail of fire. "Someone is just dead!" said the little girl; for her old grandmother, the only person who had loved her, and who was now no more, had told her, that when a star falls, a soul ascends to God. She drew another match against the wall: it was again light, and in the lustre there stood the old grandmother, so bright and radiant, so mild, and with such an expression of love. "Grandmother!" cried the little one. "Oh, take me with you! You go away when the match burns out; you vanish like the warm stove, like the delicious roast goose, and like the magnificent Christmas tree!" And she rubbed the whole bundle of matches quickly against the wall, for she wanted to be quite sure of keeping her grandmother near her. And the matches gave such a brilliant light that it was brighter than at noon-day: never formerly had the grandmother been so beautiful and so tall. She took the little maiden, on her arm, and both flew in brightness and in joy so high, so very high, and then above was neither cold, nor hunger, nor anxiety--they were with God. But in the corner, at the cold hour of dawn, sat the poor girl, with rosy cheeks and with a smiling mouth, leaning against the wall--frozen to death on the last evening of the old year. Stiff and stark sat the child there with her matches, of which one bundle had been burnt. "She wanted to warm herself," people said. No one had the slightest suspicion of what beautiful things she had seen; no one even dreamed of the splendor in which, with her grandmother she had entered on the joys of a new year.****************** HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

Post - Christmas

These days after Christmas have been fairly quiet. The main event was a day with John and Cynthia - Wednesday - and that was a very relaxed, lovely day that included some gift-giving, snacks, a very nice meal, and a lot of good conversation. It was cozy sitting by their wood stove in the iving room with a white pine Christmas tree they brought in from their land, candles burning and a fine array of crackers, cheeses and dips. One very interesting conversation had to do with a controversy that has been going on for some time - 2-3 decades - between Quebec-based Abenaki indigenous peoples and Vermont based groups who claim to be Abenaki. The Odanak First Nation and Wôlinak First Nation - the Quebec groups - believe that the "Vermont Abenaki"- four distinct groups (Abenaki Nation of Missisquoi, the Elnu Abenaki Tribe, the Koasek Traditional Band of the Koas Abenaki Nation and the Nulhegan Band of the Coosuck Abenaki Nation) who have actually been recognized by the state of Vermont as being Abenaki - are in fact imposters: they cannot provide any evidence that they are actually descendents of known Abenaki ancestors. They are self-proclaimed Abenaki who are mis-representing Abenaki culture, language and history, and receiving financial benefits to which they are not entitled. John brought this up because he knowns some of the Vermont Abenakis, and there is going to be an event in Westminster in January dealing with this controversy. I researched this a bit online - there is an extended discussion of it on the 'Vzermont Public" website (Vermont Public Radio and Television), and it is an incredibly complex and sensitive issue - but it is also fascinating and timely. The Vermont Abenaki claim that for much of their existence in Vermont, they had to remain "hidden" - from government officials, census-takers, etc. - to escape persecution, and this has compromised their ability to trace their ancestries. Part of that persecution, they claim, grew out of the "Eugenics" movement in Vermont of the 1920's-30's, an infamous piece of Vermont history in which hundreds of people deemed "undesireable" were sterilized. The Vermont Abenaki claim that indigenous peoples were regarded as undesireable and potentially targets of that sterilization campaign - thus their need to hide their identity. The Quebec-based Abenaki dispute that claim. Various individuals and groups - both indigenous and non-indigenous - have weighed in on one side or the other. Someone we know - Eve Jacobs-Carnahan - who works in the Vermont Attorney-General's Office, authored an extensive report on why the Vermont-based groups had failed to receive Federal recognition as tribes. I have been unaware of all of this. But now I am, and I may try to go to the Westminster meeting.

Scenes from our day with John and Cynthia.

Christmas Eve in Guilford

We made it to the late midnight Christmas Eve service in Guilford. it starts at 11 PM and ends at midnight. It was led by Perrin Scott and Peter Amidon led a very large choir. It was a lovely service. Here are scenes from the YouTube video:

Perrin Scott offering a prayer

Mary Alice Amidon and Peter Amidon leading "Angels Hov'ring 'Round

Emma Schneider and Arthur Davis lighting the Christ candle. They are expecing a baby in days.

The choir singing an anthem.

Ron Kelley, Keith Murphy, Jim Tolles and Mike Mayer - the tenor section

Another anthem - I'm in the red vest

"Silent Night" by candlelight

The "Joy to the World Band" - Jim Tolles playing soprano saxaphone

Happy Boxing Day!

Christmas has come, and we had a lovely Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. We did not go to church Christmas Eve morning - which was a Sunday this year. We had Jim and Mary here as guests, and with a service at 7:00p.m. in Dummerston and 11 p.m. in Guilford, it was just too much. So we were at home Sunday morning and Jim and Mary put up our tree, which we bought at Elysian Fields on Saturday. It is a very nice tree - nicely proportioned, full and not too high. Jim put on the lights - which I usually do, but my shoulder is so painful, I can't really do that job anymore. It looks nice:

Sunday evening Ellen, Jim and Mary went to the 7p.m. Dummerston service and sang in the choir, but i stayed home to rest so I could handle going to the 11p.m. Guilford service and staying up until after 1 a.m.! John and Cynthia were there too, and they came to the house to see me! That was nice. Calvin came back here with E,J and M because he too goes to the 11p..m. Guilford Service. That service was just wonderful - a huge choir, and very meaningful and uplifting. It was great to have a lot of young people there - like the former times. Christmas Day we went to Katie and Brendon's home in Shutesbury, joined by the Feinlanda, and Tye and B: alltogether - Katie, Brendon, Tye, B, Julie, Jerry, Max, Tamar, Jim and Mary, Ellen and myself. We had all the traditions - stollen, tourtière, figgy pudding, Christmas crackers with crowns, exchanging baskets, singing carols, playing a game (Fictionary Dictionary), having a story, the works. It was great, and despite the fact that I did not get to bed until 2a.m. Christmas Eve, I survived well.

Above:Ellen bringing in the pudding, flaming pudding, Ellen, Mary and Jim visiting. I forgot to take photos of everyone - too much happening.

Happy Solstice!

Earlier this week it was raining hard - parts of Vermont had serious flooding again. And now eight sunny days in a row with highs in the 30's and 40's! Not a white Christmas this year! Yesterday was the Solstice, and yesterday there was a Taizé sing at Guilford Church which I helped plan and was intending to be present for, but I stayed home. Why? Last Monday I aspirated a pill which caused the inflamation of my lung. I had to go to Urgent Care and then the ER for an X-ray. Since then I've been coughing up mucus a lot. I didn't think coughing and Taizé mixed well. As it happened, few people came, and hardly any men singers. My presence probably would not have made much difference in the singing. Ellen took my place for some readings. Last Saturday we went to a Solstice party at Katie's; Sunday morning was the Christmas Pageant at Guilford; Monday was Tom Ragle's funeral. I was giving the Homily at the funeral. That was the morning I went to the ER. I didn't think I would get to the funeral- which started at 1:30p.m., and I made several calls alerting people to that possibility. But miraculously, I was released from the ER at 12:30p.m., and felt well enough to go. I actually was able to speak reasonably well and without coughing - the coughing came later. So that was amazing.

Brendon participating in a ritual at the Solstice party on Saturday - the party started outside with a fire, singing and ritual and then moved inside for refreshments and more singing.

Others around the solstice fire.

The coffee hour after the Pageant Sunday morning. Ellen had two huge events to prepare -this Christmas Coffee Hour and the reception after Tom's service, which was "over-the top!"

Angels at the Pageant.

The Three Kings offering gifts at the Christmas Pageant, with Joseph, Mary and shepherds in the background. Baby Jesus was a doll.

Delivering the Homily at Tom Ragle's funeral service - actually it was called a "Celebration of his life."

A computer glitz

My computer has been infected by a virus which has rendered it useless. It will go the shop tomorrow. So I just have my phone for the time being. Not as easy for typing and formatting. Easy for photos. so here are photos with minimal typing.

This time of year is "fruitcake weather." Ellen makes fruitcakes and we invite a couple of friends - this year Nan, Andy and Robin - to be here while she bakes and I read Truman Capote's "A Christmas Memory" aloud. The story ia a charming remembrance of Capote's childhood when he lived with an elderly eccentric spinster "cousin" who made fruitcakes every year. We never tire of this wonderful tale!

December 9 & 10 were River Singers concert days. These are pre-concert photos showing the room and some people. Both concerts were "standing-room only" and very well received.

Ellen also makes "figgy pudding." This is a smaller one.

Community College Concert

today, we went down to Greenfield to a community college concert that Brendon was singing in. It was held in the lobby of the college, and it was well attended and the choir sounded good. Katie, Tye, Dusty and Dorothy were also there.

Sing Nowell

Despite the death of Tony Barrand and the aging of John Roberts, two who constituted the core of Nowell Sing We Clear, it continues with a new name and a greatly expanded cast. Sing Nowell now includes not only old-timers Fred Breunig and Andy Davis, but also a quartet of "young people," called Windbourne: Lauren (Fred Breunig's daughter), Jeremy, Lynn and Will; and Arthur Davis (Andy's son, his wife, Emma, Guillaume Sparrow-Pepin (Lisa Sparrow's son), and a cellist whose name I forget. Also Keith Murphy. That's eleven instead of four. Their concert was last Tuesday at the Latchis Theater, and they played to a packed house. The repertoire is essentially the same: old English songs and carols relating to the birth of Christ, and a broader group of seasonal songs. Windbourne brings a bit more international flavor - e.g., an Occitan carol. A fantastic concert full of energy. Ellen, Katie, Brendon, Nancy Tierra and I were a cluster of avid fans down front.

It’s Christmas cookie time!

We have moved into the Christmas season. Last Saturday was the Christmas bazaar at Guilford church. Ellen, as usual, made hundreds of cookies to fill 40 platters that were sold at the bazaar. Sunday was the first Sunday in Advent. Mary Alice Amidon led the service at Guilford - a wonderful service with a huge choir singing "Wachet Auf," with Dwayne Johnson on trumpet. After church we had a good Bible Study session. But hanging over everything was the death of my friend, Tom Ragle, last Tuesday. He was 96 years old. He was my brother's age - 5 months younger. I will devote a separate blog post to him. He and his wife, Nancy, are responsible more than anyone else for Shirley and me coming to the Guilford Church. They have thus shaped the latter half of my life - more than half - the last 5/9's.

Top: Ellen, Robin and Ken filling platters. I was cutting ribbons. Middle: some of the finished platters. Bottom: The bazaar awaits!