Village Squire, 1978-12, Page 25lights in the windows at McGillvery's hardware and feed store
but farther down the street there were lights in some of the
houses that ringed our little village.
Once. father had told me, people had thought this might grow
to be an important town, but then the railway came to
Hampstead. just four miles away and it grew and our little
village got even smaller. Mother said we should have closed the
store long ago and moved to Hampstead where there was some
future. But father was loyal to this place. His grandfather had
come here 60 years ago and his father had bought this store in
1896. Our roots and our friends were here, he said. Hampstead
might be prosperous but people here needed stores too.
All they needed, mother had said one other night when they
were arguing and didn't know I could hear, was someone to give
them credit. Most of them would be off to Hampstead in a flash
to do their shopping if they could get credit there, or if the
merchants would take butter and eggs and firewood to help pay
the bills as father did.
Father had come back into the room below and I could hear
mother begin again.
"And how are you going to pay for your stock. The suppliers
won't take eggs and butter you know. They want cash Bert. The
man from the drygoods company told me the other day: no more
orders ,until we've paid our bill."
"But we made a payment on that last month when we got the
last nasty letter from them."
"They said it wasn't enough. They want the account in full or
they won't ship anything else. And the traveller for the tea
company hinted the same thing when he was here last week.
Bert we've simply got to come up with some money or we'll be
out of business and we won't be able to help anybody. As much
as we want to, we can't keep the whole village afloat forever."
"Oh 1 know. I know we've got to start getting some cash but
still...well it is Christmas..."
"And what are we going to do about our own Christmas
presents? How can we afford them? What do you want to do,
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wrap up some of Celia Thompson's eggs for the children?"
"We'll think of something. Christmas shouldn't be a time of.
worrying about money. Now let's not fight. We should be happy
at this time of the year. Let's have some hot chocolate and go to
bed."
There was no use listening any more, hopping back apd forts,
from one foot to the other, trying to keep from being
permanently frozen to the linoleum. I skipped and jumped my
way back to the bed and for a long time lay there. Could mothe}
be right? No presents? How could you have Christmas without
presents? But then father had said he'd find a way and he was
always right. Besides there was Santa Claus. Surely he didn't
have to worry about bills and depressions. These comforting
thoughts brought sleep again.
The room was frozen when I heard the call to get up the next
morning. It was hard to get used to the cold house when the fire
burned out at nights these days. It seemed only aTew ttsYs ager
we'd had to leave the windows open all night, hoping against
hope that the night air would cool off enough to make life
bearable the next day. I tried to reach across to the old rocking
chair in the corner where I'd left my socks and pants the night
before but it was too much. I must remember to move that chair
closer. I had to step out of bed and dance across the floor to get
the clothing, then dance back and put them on.
Downstairs father had lit the kitchen stove and the moist warm
smell of the maple wood that Danny Riley had brought in from
his bush was filling the kitchen. Winter was a strange
combination: the torture of cold floors in the bedroom and the
ecstasy of fragrant heat in the kitchen. Excitement rose in me
when I was about half -way down the stairs. This was the day of
the school concert. We'd been working on it for weeks, each
grade planning something. Tonight we would show it off to our
parents and then afterward Santa Claus would come and give out
some presents and everyone would sit around and the coffee
would come out and date squares and cookies and it would be a
delightful time. It was like being part of a delicious secret for us
L 1•+
•
•
CMi4w4 SkW 3
FOR BEST SELECTIONS .,,
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HARRIS
STATIONERY
WINGHAM PHONE 357-3191
December 1978, Village Squire 23