Due to covid, Linda and I did not celebrate Christmas with family in Abbotsford the past two years. This year we were determined to make up for lost time, but once again it was not to be. Police warnings and reports of accidents on ice laden roads convinced us to hunker down here and once again enjoy a more subdued Christmas. There were several highlights and adventures that gave us memories we will long treasure.
One highlight came from our 21 year old granddaughter Alexa. She said to her mother (our daughter Vivian), “without grandma and grandpa here last year, Christmas didn’t seem the same. If they don’t feel safe driving here, I’m going there to pick them up and I will also return them.” We weren’t willing to endanger her and it didn’t happen, but knowing she was willing lifted our spirits.
One adventure we didn’t anticipate began to unfold when the phone rang a few days before Christmas. The call was from our friend Brian who has been in prison approximately twenty years. He is currently in the Idaho Maximum Security Penitentiary. We were connected with Brian by our friend Arnet Hales about six years ago. Arnet has passed since then but we have corresponded with Brian by mail and an occasional phone call.
When the call came, a recorded message from the prison operator offered a confusing selection of numbers to press before we were permitted to talk. “Press 5 if you want to accept the call,” she said. I followed her instruction and the line went dead. I had blocked all future calls from him. The operator wasn’t on the line so I couldn’t tell her it had not been my intention. Linda and I are pretty much his only contacts outside the prison. For two days I attempted to talk with someone at the prison to explain my predicament. No one answered my calls. I finally left a message on the “Captain’s” voice mail, virtually pleading with him to undo my mistake. Not knowing if he was already off for Christmas, Linda and I waited, and prayed for divine intervention. Two days later Brian called. The Captain had explained to him what I had done. He also undid my bungle and we could talk.
In the meantime, Linda was baking approximately 15 dozen Christmas cookies for friends and for individuals with few connections here. She has done this for several years and sometimes in the days prior to Christmas we receive not so subtle hints that cookies would again be welcome. This happened in the post office one day. Ron came in and his first words were “Is Linda baking cookies this year?” Another man accepted the plate of cookies and said, “Linda’s cookies are the best I’ve ever eaten.” As in past years, some of the recipients have few connections in Hedley. The cookies are our way of saying “you aren’t forgotten. We value you.”
Snow on the ground and the mountains surrounding us, plus below zero temperatures have heightened our sense of Christmas. Also, friends and family have reached out with cards, phone calls, and baking. One evening our friend Pixie showed up at our door bearing a jumbo platter with enough food for two meals. Our neighbor Di treated us with tourtiere (a French Canadian meat pie). A call from Ivan McLelland, Penticton V’s hockey great, was a nice surprise. There were other thoughtful gestures which gave this Christmas a special significance for us.
Two Hedley organizations hosted Christmas dinners, which we chose to miss because of covid concerns. Christmas Eve we attended a Carol Sing at the little church here. At the end of the service the lights were extinguished and we held lit candles while singing Silent Night. Then we gathered in the fellowship room for coffee and treats. On New Years Day we were invited to a delicious turkey dinner with friends in the home of Ruth Woodin.
It was a simple but enjoyable Christmas, uncluttered by commercial blandishments. This enabled us to focus more clearly on what for us is the reason for this time of celebration, the birth of Jesus.