Christmas - grace grits and gardening

Tonka Truck Tale

December 25, 2012 By Talya Tate Boerner

After crafting my letter to Santa, I proof-read my little sister’s. At the top of her list, a Tonka Truck.

“No, Staci! That’s a boy’s present!!!” I was incredulous. Although we both had tomboy tendencies favoring tree climbing to tea parties, she couldn’t waste her main gift on a boy’s present. Papa Creecy would buy us boy presents any time we wanted, at the mere mention of a matchbox car or a baseball bat…

Grateful to have been saved from such a misguided gift, Staci erased and erased and erased until she almost ripped the notebook paper. Over the bare worn spot, she wrote Baby Alive Doll in large block letters. There could be no confusion on Santa’s part. Much better, I thought.

Satisfied, we taped our letters near the rock fireplace in the living room. Santa would spot them the moment he slid down our chimney. I felt a bit sorry for Staci—her letter was really messy with all that erasing. I would have started over with a clean sheet of paper…

Christmas morning was cold and blustery and WHITE. Snow on the most wonderful day of the year! But the snow would have to wait. We crept into the living room wondering had we really been good enough? I had doubts.

Shocked, we stared dumb-struck at the Christmas miracle. Parked underneath the Scotch pine tree—a shiny Tonka Dump Truck and Front End Bucket Loader. Santa really didknow what we were thinking.

I was surprised to receive anything that year after making fun of my sister’s letter to Santa.

We played with those trucks for years, and to this day they sit on my mother’s back porch. Tonka Trucks are guaranteed for life, you know.

talya

Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

Musical Pairing:

Santa Claus is Coming to Town, Jackson 5

“Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time.”
― Laura Ingalls Wilder

On That Night

December 24, 2012 By Talya Tate Boerner

Before reading, click here for the first part of the story—> You Send Me

Last summer when I happened upon Long Ago Antiques in Fayetteville, I purchased an old, musty book—On That Night by Elizabeth Yates. I was drawn to it by the well-loved cover and Christmas subject matter. Setting the book aside, I decided to save it for Christmas reading.

My next trip into the same antique store, I bought the Nancy Drew book that led me to my prior blog post, You Send Me. Based on notations inside The Ghost of Blackwood Hall, it was owned in 1959 by May “Babe” Brightwell when she was a teenager living in Maryland. I wondered what became of her, and decided I would try to contact her after the holidays.

I placed the book on my bookcase. It stared at me each time I walked through my bedroom. Yes.I.Was.Putting.It.Off. But, what if I couldn’t locate her? What if there wasn’t more to this story?

Sometimes the idea of something is better than reality…

Friday night I received two emails from Brightwell family members who discovered my blog post completely by accident. May Brightwell is alive and well, still living in Maryland. She was thrilled to read my blog and see the pictures of her handwriting.

I was as thrilled as she.

Would she like her book back?

Yes, she would LOVE her book back!

Additional emails revealed Ms. Brightwell has always had a love for books and reading and for Nancy Drew in particular. She has no recollection of how she parted ways with this book, nor any idea how it came to be located in Arkansas. (part 3 of the story?)

For a few months, I was merely a caretaker of The Ghost of Blackwell Hall. I considered writing my name and address inside the book underneath hers before returning it, but this didn’t seem appropriate.

On Saturday, my neighborhood post office was crammed, packed with harried people mailing last minute Christmas cards and gifts. The parking lot was filled to capacity. Mailing this book was my priority for the day, more important than holiday baking or present wrapping. And, I was surprised to learn she would receive her book on Christmas Eve. Perfect!

Last night I began reading On That Night, my other antique store treasure. I studied the inside flap, then flipped the book over to see the back cover which revealed the following…