Page 20 - SMH 2018 3rd edition

by Mike Maples

Christmas

The first autumn leaf to fall comes to the mountains on a chilly night was a sign to grandpa. The garden harvest had
been collected and the splitting of timber for winter was well under way. Christmas was special to mountain folks.
Strong Christian faith had pulled families together and helped them through the tough times. It was a celebration of
song and dedication to serving God and keeping the faith that made Christmas a special mountain tradition.

Mountain children couldn’t wait for Christmas to come. The dinner table might be a little more packed with their
mom’s and aunt’s special plates and treats. For some, it might be the first taste of chicken or some other meat in
several months. Oh, it might even mean a second helping and extra pie. It was enough to keep a child awake at night
just thinking about it. Nothing like the smell of a Christmas dinner filling the cabin walls.

Grandpa had many sons, as it always seemed with the Cantrell mountain families. He had came from a family of
mostly brothers and just a few sisters. His young boys looked forward to some Christmas treats like oranges or
some store bought candy. But, for grandpa on this Christmas, it was about his little girl. She was the baby of all his
children, even though his first child was also a girl who was now a young adult. Large families were just a part of
mountain life.

What to get his little girl? He had mostly always made his gifts while working in the barn. He had made the chil-
dren shoes and grandma had made most of their clothes. Some clothes were hand me downs from neighbors or kin.
If he was going to make something, then he had better get started before starting working the winter wood mills for
the timber companies. His little girl had just turned five and this will be the first Christmas that she may remember
the rest of her life.

Mom had been born around a logging camp in the Smokies. She was use to running around all summer barefoot
playing in the creeks and fields. Now, just big enough to start helping with pulling weeds between the corn rolls as
grandpa made doing it as a game for her. A big enough pile of weeds stacked down at the end of the garden might
just get you that extra hug and piggy-back ride to the cabin. The bonds of a mountain family are unlike any others.
They just shared so much more laughter, pain, sickness and love together.

For grandpa, it was a three-day walk to the big city. He make his way about twelve miles the first day and stay at
the island along the river near Sevierville. The next day he would go by and visit his sister while catching up on
family news and telling his kin about mountain tales. The third day he continued his walk to Knoxville to see all the
fancy items in store windows that he couldn’t afford. But, he might get an idea for something he could make for his
family or for his little girl. Then, he would have to make the same three-day journey back across the river and
creeks to his mountain home. Six days and seventy miles later he find his children waiting his arrival and seeking
news about the families he had stopped and stayed with along his trip.

Mom had an old rag doll made from a corn stock with a hay skirt tied with string. It had
eyes made from small hickory nut shells, then adding the fruit from a dogwood tree to give
the eyes color. A child’s imagination with the modest of any mountain made toy could play
for hours. Mom was a happy tom–boy who enjoyed playing with her other brothers in the
woods. Grandma would be so upset with her getting her clothes dirty after she told her not
to get them dirty. Mom was thinking they are just hand-me-downs from her older sister or
from one of her aunts. They are just rags anymore. Her first dress was made from a potato
sack she said to herself as she chased off after her older brother. Grandpa would just laugh
and sit on the porch watching his little girl running off to the woods again. He gave her the
same warning with a wink as she started climbing the apple tree to pick just the best one.
Photo credit: Zula Maples
20 Smoky Mountain Hiker