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The new stove for Christmas

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The family had already gathered in the valley below the Gravelly Spur for an unbelievable feast of ham garnished with pineapple, green beans in a dish surrounded by little pearl onions, mashed potatoes and gravy, and dandelion greens seasoned with just the right amount of pepper and fresh churned butter.
The dinner was topped off with one of Grandma Kitty’s pumpkin pies.
She carefully prepared each item in her cast iron pots over the open flames of the hearth. She never complained about all the work that was involved in keeping the fire stoked and having to keep such close tabs on each item to make sure they were just right.
The days following Thanksgiving always meant there would be some leftovers for the family to enjoy in a variety of creations that she would lovingly craft to give the family the illusion that they were not eating the same dishes each meal.
For years, she toiled to make the three meals a day for her ever-growing family. One day when the family went to town that summer, Grandpa Bill noticed her lingering in Ollison’s General Store around a catalog with pictures of some new wood cooking stoves.
Although she never said a word, he saw in her eyes the desire she had for a wrought iron Home Comfort stove.
He decided then and there that she would have one. So he made an arrangement with Mr. Ollison to buy the stove, paying a bit at a time through the rest of the year to have it arrive just before Christmas.
Grandpa Bill had managed to keep the purchase a secret from the entire family. He even arranged for everyone to be gone to visit Cousin Winfrey Small so that when Mr. Ollison arrived in his wagon on Dec. 23, with a tarp covering the contents, no one could see.
Mr. Ollison and Grandpa Bill unloaded the stove and set it in the kitchen. He had worked all morning preparing the stove pipe so he could get it hooked up and have it ready when she returned.
He was making the last adjustment as he heard the wagon pull up in the yard. He quickly pulled a bit of red ribbon into a bow and set it in the middle of the stove. He sat down quietly at the table with his newspaper in his hand as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
As the kids rushed into the house, they did not even notice the large stove in the kitchen until Grandma Kitty dropped the pail she was carrying with her Christmas cookies inside. She stood in the middle of the kitchen floor, her hand over her mouth, holding back a flood of tears as she saw the stove.
The sound of the pail hitting the floor brought all the kids to the kitchen, and they began hovering around the stove.
Pearl said, “Did Santa come early?”
Grandpa Bill said, “Yes, he said he would be back in a couple of days, but he thought your mother might like to have her present early.”
Grandma Kitty had moved quietly to her kitchen chair, sitting down slowly, never taking her eyes off the stove except to wipe away the tears of joy flowing down her cheek.
Pearl said, “Why are you so sad about getting a present?”
“I’m not sad dear, I am just so happy I could not help crying,” she said.
“So you like the new stove?” she asked.
“I have never gotten a better present from Santa in my life,” she said.
She rose and gave Grandpa Bill a big hug.
“Thank you for telling Santa what I wanted,” she said.
“If he could, he would give you so much more,” he said.
“I have everything I need right here,” she said, as she gathered all her children close and hugged them tightly.

“The New Stove” is from Randall Franks’s “A Mountain Pearl: Appalachian Reminiscing and Recipes”

The Christmas Doll

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The winter of ’34 in the valley below the Gravely Spur was an especially hard one. A Christmas snow had blanketed the valley, making travel through the mountain passes treacherous, even if taken by foot.
With one false step, even those who knew the routes by heart could find themselves slipping into a snow drift hiding a potential fall.
However, for most of the children of the valley the snow turned it into a winter wonderland. Pearl, Ruby and the Wood boys were finding whatever they could ride to go sledding down Turner’s gorge. At the bottom of the gorge lay a pond formed from Frog Leg Creek which was covered in a thick coat of ice almost strong enough for skating. No one had any skates so they would simply slide across on the soles of the new shoes they received when the crops were sold.
While the children were unaware, most of the parents of the valley knew that the reality of the year had left them all in dire straits.
Toys at Christmas were largely a luxury in the valley. Even the well-to-do families were having trouble this year. The customary apple, banana or piece of peppermint stick candy that most of the children found in their stocking might be missed this year.
Pearl had sensed the concerns of her parents and with six children and four share-cropping families to help, she knew her father was doing all he could that year.
The unexpected snow however made it difficult for anything not already on hand to be brought into the valley.
Still Pearl hoped that she might find a little something for her Christmas morning that she could call her very own.
As she was sliding on the ice, she listened as the Wood boys laughed about what happened to what they got the year before.
“I can’t believe what George did to our present last year,” Woody said. “We got a whole string of firecrackers to split between us boys and he nearly run us out of the house with them.”
“He got up early Christmas morning and found them. They had this long string running through connecting them, so he took that loose and was counting them and splitting them up so we all had the same amount,” he said. “He threw that long piece of string in the fire. That thing jumped back out right in the middle of his pile. You should have seen George when those firecrackers started going off in every direction. They even jumped up in the bed with the rest of us and got everybody up in the house.”
But in spite of the snow, Santa would be making his usual stops at the Gravelly Spur no matter what. Because of the terrain, this year he would only make one stop in the valley and all the neighbors would go by Christmas morning and pick up what he had brought for the valley children.
Santa’s helper in the valley was Rev. Ben Smathers, who waited patiently Christmas Eve for Santa’s arrival. As the families came to Big Lick Church Christmas morning, he would then, one by one, distribute the gifts and the community would then gather for a celebration of Christ‘s birth.
Christmas morning, Pearl was up early, anxious for the trip to the church. In her stocking she found an orange and a stick of candy. When the family arrived at the church, she joined the other children in line at the tree and stepped up to Rev. Smathers. He placed in her arms a little blonde doll in a woven basket lying upon a blue cotton pillow.
“It is so beautiful,” she said. “Is she really mine?”
“Yes, just for you my dear,” he said. “So you take good care of her.”
As she looked in the eyes of her new friend, Pearl beamed with the joy of Christmas.
It was not stacks of gifts which made her eyes glimmer and her face shine with the light of the season. It was one simple gift of her very own given by the heart of a pastor who knew without his help many children would do without that Christmas.

An aisle to the future

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I walked down the aisle between the rows of seats in the Dresden Elementary School cafeteria. On each side were the parents and grandparents of my classmates watching with bright faces as we walked by in our best. Kelly Carter was paired to walk beside me in the procession as we completed seven years of learning before transitioning to high school in the fall.
Within this room, I had eaten five meals a week for seven school years. After I was diagnosed allergic to milk, that was a daily trip into the kitchen to get a glass of orange juice, more times than I can count.
In that room, the Cub Scouts held their Pack Meetings and Pinewood Derbys. As I recall, Mr. Donor, our principal doubled as pack leader. My late parents also served – Mom was a den mother.
We held choral and orchestra performances from the stage of that room and a few childhood plays also made their way to the parents’ awaiting eyes.
We held parts of Halloween events, Spring Carnivals and special programs in that room. Some of my favorite moments were the special Christmas chorales that were held with such wonderful music. All of us had clear childhood voices with which to harmonize and make the music blend.
I recall at least one Peachtree Pickers performance by my youth bluegrass band from that stage, but on this day all of that was coming to a close as we were handed our certificates and bid goodbye to the teachers, we had known from ages 6 to 13.
There were many hopes and dreams that were realized for us that day and many new dreams began.
In your hometown, in your elementary and middle schools, many of the youth will gather to share songs or music during this Christmas season. I encourage you to lend your support to these efforts. Make a difference in the lives of youth who wish to share their talents. Some may be presenting special plays at Christian schools or churches that reflect the story of the season. Please attend and encourage the participants. You never know, you may find yourself uplifted by talents who will change the world in a few years.
I am sure those parents sitting out in the audience at my graduation or at one of those early performances, likely never imagined they would one day see me acting on network television or hear me from the stage of the Grand Ole Opry, but that is where those early experiences led me.
You may experience the same, but while doing it be sure to encourage them along the way and support your local charities which make Christmas that much brighter for the young people in your hometown.

An Appalachian mountain elf

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The winds pounded upon the side of the house sitting in the shadow of Gravelly Spur Mountain and seeped beneath the cracks around the windows and doors letting the chill of winter in the walls warmed by the wood stacked and burning in the fireplace.

The sound of bells tinkled as they were pulled from a wood box which sat by the evergreen tree placed with love in the corner of the main room.

Pearl tied the small bells with yarn to the boughs. In a small pan, Grandma Kitty popped corn which would soon string into lengths to surround the tree from top to bottom.

“Well, that should be enough,” she said. “Everyone find a place and let’s get busy.”

The time spent stringing brought all the family ‘round to sit upon every open space as stories of Christmas passed were recalled and hopes and wishes for the coming yuletide rang through the laughter.

“I want a wagon,” Nellie said as Pearl used her to model the popcorn string instead of the tree.

Little Ma, Grandad Bill’s grandmother sat closest to the fire with her sewing in hand, refreshing the dress of the angel which he would soon place on the treetop when all was said and done.

Soon one of the children started singing “Oh, Little Town of Bethlehem,” and the rest would join in as the work continued.

A knock at the door brought Bill to find no one there. He stepped outside on the porch seeing no one in sight and not a footprint visible in the light smattering of snow on the ground.

“No one is around,” he said as he returned to his work.

“It was the mountain elf making sure we were hard at work preparing for Christmas morn,” Little Ma said.

“The mountain elf,” what’s that Pearl said as she rushed by her side at the fire.

“You see when our people came to the mountains, from Scotland, many of them came with their trunks filled with clothes and bits and pieces of the past from the old country. The elves crawled in alongside the bits and pieces and came to live here with us,” she said.

“What do the look like?” Pearl asked.

“I’ve never seen one but they say they are just like us but smaller,” she said. “They watch after the bits and pieces and make sure they are cared for.”

“Why did they bang on the door,” Pearl asked.

“The bells and this angel were some of the bits and pieces that came over and have passed down through the years,” she said. “They like to see us using them, it reminds them of home. Christmas is the time of year when we all think of home and what has come before and hopefully what will be. I think that is why they knocked, so they could look inside when the door opened. I think when we hang the bells and they ring, it brings them.”

“Do they help Santa on Christmas, is that why you call them an elf?” Pearl said.

“In a way, we are all mountain elves, we all tend to each other’s things, look after one another and help make sure that what is needed be gotten, if it can be got,” she said. “So I reckon they do help him, just like each of us do dear. Now, we best be gettin’ this tree decorated or Christmas will be come and gone and we will have missed it.”

The group begins to sing “Jingle Bells” as the popcorn is wrapped around the tree and the bells swing and ring. Pearl runs to look out the front window to see if a mountain elf may be spying from the other side.

Lights are flickering and the halls are decked

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Flickering lights shimmered in the breeze hanging from trees, light poles, porch eaves and buildings as I drove around my hometown last week.
It is such a heartwarming sight to see the efforts made both by our city staff and individual property owners to raise people’s spirits during this Christmas season. For me the warmth generated within by the beautiful decorations helps to make my hopes swell watching to see the goodness and kindness that so many exhibit during the season.
Many years ago, I wrote a song called “Let’s Live Every Day Like It Was Christmas.”
The sentiment for me still rings true today. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the charity and good will that we see shown in the weeks around Christmas were part of our lives each and every day?
I have been blessed to know so many people in every walk of life, rich and poor, well known and unknown, mean-spirited and generous beyond measure.
I have seen some of the greatest of charity come from those who have the least to give.
I have seen some of the kindest actions given by those who are otherwise detestable.
Each year I watch countless individuals gathering toys to change the lives of children in our community. I saw my parents do this time and time again trying to encourage families who needed more than we did.
I have watched our church family gather to provide food and supplies to hundreds of families that would otherwise have a less merry season.
I see people smile more by the twinkle in their eyes; they stop to open a door for someone with an arm full of packages, or allow another driver an opportunity to go before them.
Now that is not to say, there aren’t those who selfishly push their way around the season trying to get what they want without consideration for others. Many times, unfortunately,
these folks do live that way all year around.
It would not only be nice to live every day like it was Christmas but to remember that the greatest gift shared with us during the season was God’s love for all of us through the gift of His son, Jesus Christ.
Peace, love for one another and hopes for a greater tomorrow is within our grasp if we only strive for it within our own lives, our own families and our own communities. When we put them all together, wouldn’t the world shimmer in the glow of Christmas lights that each of us might hang to raise spirits.

“Let’s Live Every Day Like It Was Christmas”

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It was just over 30 years ago when two-time Dove Award nominee Mark Wheeler of the Marksmen Quartet and I created a Christmas song beckoning listeners to do just that – “Let’s Live Every Day Like It Was Christmas.”
Millions around the world have heard songs or tunes I penned for radio, movies or television but none has had the widespread impact on listeners that it did.
Perhaps it was the simple message based in experience and the easy reminder that Christmas is about “the baby king who gave us all a chance.”
For me, I always get caught up in the sentimentality of the season, the lights, the songs, the parades, the church services and programs. They always seem to take me back to my childhood and the excitement that mounted as Christmas day drew closer.
That anticipation of what surprises would be in store under the tree.
Since becoming an adult my focus changed upon those who might not have anything under their tree or no one to share the season with.
Even as a boy, my parents taught me to create gifts by hand such as cookies and cakes to share with the neighbors, especially those who were by themselves.
We also gathered up old toys throughout the year, fixing them and making them like new for children who had little or nothing to find under the tree.
For many the Christmas season brings a reminder of especially how lonely things can be.
Folks tend to visit more but once gone the silence can be deafening as it can be throughout the year.
In the song, I wondered why we wait until Christmas to visit our loved ones because loneliness abounds throughout the year. The season seems to make us more giving but people are just as hungry in July and there are still needs to be met in which we could make a difference.
Christmas is a wonderful time of year but wouldn’t it be wonderful if each and every day we carried with us the spirit of Christmas.
What if, we had a kinder word for our neighbors, every day?
What if, we saw the good in those we meet, every day?
What if, we put others before ourselves, every day?
What if, we made a difference in someone else’s life, every day?
What if, we walked in the way we would want the baby king to know, every day?
So, let’s live every day like it was Christmas and if we do, what a wonderful world it could be.
If you would like to catch a video of my vintage top-10 country vocal collaboration of this song with Grand Ole Opry stars the Whites, Jesse McReynolds and Jerry Douglas, simply visit Randall Franks TV on YouTube or donate for its CD “Christmas Time’s A Comin'” with the cast of TV’s “In the Heat of the Night” at https://randallfranks.com/store to benefit drug abuse prevention efforts.

The Christmas Doll

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The winter of ’34 in the valley below the Gravely Spur was an especially hard one. A Christmas snow had blanketed the valley, making travel through the mountain passes treacherous, even if taken by foot.
With one false step, even those who knew the routes by heart could find themselves slipping into a snow drift hiding a potential fall.
However, for most of the children of the valley the snow turned it into a winter wonderland. Pearl, Ruby and the Wood boys were finding whatever they could ride to go sledding down Turner’s gorge. At the bottom of the gorge lay a pond formed from Frog Leg Creek which was covered in a thick coat of ice almost strong enough for skating. No one had any skates so they would simply slide across on the soles of the new shoes they received when the crops were sold.
While the children were unaware, most of the parents of the valley knew that the reality of the year had left them all in dire straits.
Toys at Christmas were largely a luxury in the valley. Even the well-to-do families were having trouble this year. The customary apple, banana or piece of peppermint stick candy that most of the children found in their stocking might be missed this year.
Pearl had sensed the concerns of her parents and with six children and four share-cropping families to help, she knew her father was doing all he could that year.
The unexpected snow however made it difficult for anything not already on hand to be brought into the valley.
Still Pearl hoped that she might find a little something for her Christmas morning that she could call her very own.
As she was sliding on the ice, she listened as the Wood boys laughed about what happened to what they got the year before.
“I can’t believe what George did to our present last year,” Woody said. “We got a whole string of firecrackers to split between us boys and he nearly run us out of the house with them.”
“He got up early Christmas morning and found them. They had this long string running through connecting them, so he took that loose and was counting them and splitting them up so we all had the same amount,” he said. “He threw that long piece of string in the fire. That thing jumped back out right in the middle of his pile. You should have seen George when those firecrackers started going off in every direction. They even jumped up in the bed with the rest of us and got everybody up in the house.”
But in spite of the snow, Santa would be making his usual stops at the Gravelly Spur no matter what. Because of the terrain, this year he would only make one stop in the valley and all the neighbors would go by Christmas morning and pick up what he had brought for the valley children.
Santa’s helper in the valley was Rev. Ben Smathers, who waited patiently Christmas Eve for Santa’s arrival. As the families came to Big Lick Church Christmas morning, he would then, one by one, distribute the gifts and the community would then gather for a celebration of Christ‘s birth.
Christmas morning, Pearl was up early, anxious for the trip to the church. In her stocking she found an orange and a stick of candy. When the family arrived at the church, she joined the other children in line at the tree and stepped up to Rev. Smathers. He placed in her arms a little blonde doll in a woven basket lying upon a blue cotton pillow.
“It is so beautiful,” she said. “Is she really mine?”
“Yes, just for you my dear,” he said. “So you take good care of her.”
As she looked in the eyes of her new friend, Pearl beamed with the joy of Christmas.
It was not stacks of gifts which made her eyes glimmer and her face shine with the light of the season. It was one simple gift of her very own given by the heart of a pastor who knew without his help many children would do without that Christmas.

And they’re off! Here we go a shop-eling

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The Christmas shopping season is in full swing and so has the mad dash to get everything done before all the kinfolk start gatherin’ around the icicle-strewn Douglas fir tree to open presents.
I remember waking to the smell of bacon frying Christmas morning. As I rushed into the living room, the tree would sparkle with what seemed like a thousand stars. I just knew that I caught a glimpse of Santa as the jolly old elf was moving about the house the night before.
There were so many beautifully wrapped red, green, silver and gold packages that my mother carefully placed under the tree, only to see all her handiwork destroyed in a matter of minutes Christmas morning.
My parents worked hard to put inside those packages items we had our eyes on, that we said we just could not live without. I know there were times they sacrificed what they wanted so that we would have a memorable Christmas. It is amazing though, since reaching adulthood I realized that “our wants will not hurt us.” If we do not get something we want, it is not going to be the end of world. In fact, in most cases, it is probably for the best.
I know my parents also were awakened much as I was with the smell of homemade buttermilk biscuits cooking in the oven. I’m sure they and their siblings rushed in to see the tree and their stockings filled with their presents.
Unlike my brothers and I, many in my parents’ generation were lucky to receive an orange, a stick of candy and maybe some small toy that their parents scraped and saved to buy. Toys were usually a luxury, as practical items like shoes or clothes were more likely.
My parents worked to give me and my brothers more Christmas gifts than they knew. Even more than the gifts they shared with us, it was the true spirit of the season that stands in my memory today.
As we push through the crowds of shoppers at Wal-Mart, we see the aisles covered in Barbies and GI Joes, icicle lights, and light-up Santa statues of every shape and size with which we can adorn our homes. When we attend the church plays and school recitals, we should remember really what the spirit of Christmas is, as we recognize the birth of Jesus, our Lord and Savior. In the center of the celebration are our families. We are given the opportunity to pause and remember God’s greatest gift to us, his son.
Children today would probably look back and say what little many of our parents had for their childhood holidays. Back then they did not know they only had a little, because they had as much as any of their neighbors and in many cases more. During the holidays, our family gathered together around a table set with a mouth-watering feast prepared by loving hands with the ingredients available no matter how meager or abundant. The family would make a trip into the woods and select a tree off the farm, which they cut down and brought back home. The family decorated the tree with popcorn strings, construction paper chains and ornaments they crafted by hand.
Like the decorations, many of the gifts they shared were also fashioned by the hands of the parents, grandparents or siblings.
To me more than the toys, I remember what our family did together.
At our family dinners, mother always made it a point to include a neighbor or relative who was alone. While the holiday can be joyous for some, for others who are alone due to distance or the loss of a loved one, the time can be unbearable. Including someone outside the immediate family in your holiday festivities reminds us and our young people the importance of caring about others.
We always worked to gather items for those in need. Sometimes we knew them, sometimes we didn’t. Whether it was clothes, toys, or food, we tried to make someone else’s holiday better. I remember one year my mother and dad worked to gather and repair old bicycles to improve the holiday for the children of a large family.
I learned to cook very early. One of my tasks was to help prepare the Christmas cookies, which we shared with others who might not have them.
I’ll never forget one year. I thought I would help by getting a jump on the baking tasks, so I followed my grandmother’s cookie recipe. What I did not realize is that I had to adjust the mixture for the use of self-rising rather than plain flour. So, let’s just say the salt I added gave a new meaning to the words bitter sweet. But the gallons we prepared were still eaten, with more wanted and needed.
No matter what you plan for the holidays, remember it is not how brightly you decorate your home, the expense or number of the gifts you buy or the volume at which you play and sing the beloved carols that make it Christmas. It is what you do with your family to make it a memory that will stand for a lifetime, not only for you but for all those your family can touch this Christmas season. Take the time to make a difference. God never promised tomorrow, so make sure this holiday counts. You may just change a life —yours!

Lights, carols and sadness

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Christmas for many is filled with favorites – food, music, decorations, and family.

But for many the month of December is filled with reminders of what can be overcome in other months of the year.

Loneliness is a feeling that many manage throughout the year. When Christmas comes around though up goes the beauty of the colored lights and crowds flock to shopping malls to fill their stockings and beneath their trees. Folks are hosting parties, calendars are filled with special events in towns, churches, and at schools and all we see reminds us of the blessings of the season.

You would think that all these activities would make those who are lonely feel better especially if they are able to participate. They are fun while they last and do bring spirits up. Often seeing others having fun together at malls or parties only brings on greater depths of missing loved ones or lost opportunities at love once the lights fade and sounds go silent.

Eventually, the individual must return to their home, to the four walls and empty halls. This is when the sadness of the season sinks in.

Does this mean we should not try to uplift others during this season of love? No, it means we should only try harder to make a difference in the lives of those God sends our way who are alone in life. God made all types of people, some are quite sufficient on their own. But there are those who need us to remind them each day, each week that they are not alone.

Are you helping in this effort? Is there a relative who may be widowed? A friend who is single? A child who is orphaned? Can you make this season better for them? Will you help them when the lights fade and the music goes silent?

We are here to encourage one another. This Christmas season, I urge you to remember that God sent His Son to save us from the loneliness of this world and remind us that we should love our neighbor as ourselves.

If we do anything this season, let’s remember that for life to be better for those around us, it begins with us. If I feel lonely, I think of what I was taught by a now 102-year-old – the advice her father gave to her: “If you want a friend, you have to be a friend.” It’s amazing how uplifting it is to spend your time helping others. It has always made a difference in my life. Go out and be a friend – it’s a wonderful Christmas gift!

The Christmas shine is for sharing

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“Here’s the boxes of outside lights,” I said as I handed them down the attic stairs to my father Floyd.
Next came the interior boxes that were spread on the floor of the living room for my mother Pearl to sift through. A few hops up and down the attic ladder and all the Christmas decorations were strewn on the living room floor.
The holly climbed the wall by our front door, the bushes were full and green in front of the red-brick ranch-style house and the greenery made a perfect location to hold up numerous strings of Christmas lights.
As we moved beyond Thanksgiving, it fell on my father and I to bring my childhood home’s exterior into the Christmas spirit.
“Dad, have you seen the extra light bulbs, we got several out in this string,” I said as I raised my head seeing him standing on a ladder placing a power cord.
The lights were long strings some with full-sized colored bulbs, some with smaller ones. Of course, the first task was making sure all the bulbs worked before placing them. This was my job as my dad ran the electrical cords providing the power.
“There still in the boxes,” he said, so I was up and sticking my hands down through a spider web of wires searching for the box of bulbs.
After getting all the lights in place the final act of exterior decorations was the placement of a large lighted Santa Claus face was hung in the holly by our front door.
By the time this was done we moved inside to set up the faux fireplace, where our stockings were hung and assisted mother with the placement of various items around the house including lighted candles for all the windows and in then we would assemble our artificial tree and add the decorations and lights.
We always worked together to make the tree look just right. We didn’t always have an artificial tree, that came when my health was so weak that live trees caused breathing issues.
We built some wonderful memories preparing for the Christmas season as friends and family flowed in and out of our brightly decorated home.  It was the backdrop of so much joy and laughter, tears of sorrow, and lessons learned.
I watched as both my mother and father welcomed others into our home who had no one to share the holidays with. I participated as my father refurbished bicycles and peddle cars for needy children, and as my mother collected and boxed foods for needy families. Christmas is always brighter with the shiny decorations that we wrap our live within. Let’s not forget that the greatest gift of Christmas was the baby Jesus that charged each of us with loving our neighbor as ourselves. Share the shine that God gave you in your life by loving your neighbors.