Chapter Eight
We dropped breathlessly into our beds that night, dreaming of holly and waltz's and warm toes (especially me.) The snow fell in slants across the window. There was something so peaceful about snow falling in slants past your window and you're in the warmth of the house watching it. It's so comfortable. But none of us really cared, for we fell asleep as soon as our heads hit the pillows.
Christmas morning dawned bright and fair. We were to spend Christmas dinner at the Barrys with quite a few other classmates. I woke up at seven, yawning and stretching, and sliding out of my bed, wrapping my arms tightly around my flannel nightgown. I put on my slippers and yawned my way into the sitting room where the tree was. Mike was still sleeping on the couch. I sat in front of the tree, gazing up at it with wondering eyes. It was beautiful, even without electric lights spun around it. It looked so…so home-like, with its homemade ornaments and others given at special occasions. I guess no one had invented Baby's First Christmas yet, all of the ornaments were of wreaths and holly and other such greenery. Mike stirred next to me and squinted his eyes open.
"Morning," he mumbled, turning over. I looked under the tree at the neatly wrapped presents and remembered some I had wrapped. I tiptoed back into the bedroom where Mell was still sleeping and grabbed some packages from under my bed to place them under the tree. I heard some movement in the other room and went to see if Sara was awake. I walked over to the door.
"Shire…" I whispered into the knob, "Bagginsssssssss…"
"Ann, come in, you Ringwraith," I heard a voice say. I opened the door, grinning.
"So, what did you dream about?"
She raised her eyebrows a couple times.
"Which one?"
"Oh, so there's more than one?"
"Gil or Frodo?"
I shook my head, laughing.
"Merry Christmas, Sara."
"Merry Christmas."
Two hours later, after a delicious meal of bacon and eggs, we sat around the tree, giving out gifts. Mrs. Lynde handed us each a lumpy package. I opened mine to find a bright red, knitted scarf. Sara had purple, Mell had blue and Mike had green.
I handed my presents out.
"Here, Sara." It was small box, filled with tissue paper. She flipped open the top and pulled out a plain gold ring, with little engravings on it.
"To go with your gold chain," I said.
"It is perfect."
"Mell, I got you this."
She pulled out a bag of pencils.
"Now, you'll have no excuse to say that you don't have any pencils to do your math homework or your doodling." She laughed.
"And, yes, you Mike," I gave him a present.
"A book?"
"Yeah, in hopes you might start to like reading books, as you're in one currently."
"What is it?"
"The Hound of the Baskervilles. Guess who helped me pick it out?"
The day passed with continuous delights. Anne stopped by with cherry preserves Marilla had made and handing us all a gift. I received a journal, a pretty one with pale purple coverings and a plum colored ribbon as a bookmark.
"It's beautiful," I told her and I gave her a hug.
The Christmas party at the Barrys was the highlight of the day. Sara certainly enjoyed herself because the Blythes were there. Gilbert handed her a hair ribbon of royal blue, which she wore in her hair the entire time after.
The Barrys also had a piano and we had fun going through any song we could think of and singing at the top of our lungs. Mr. Barry thought we had accidentally tried some of Marilla's red current wine.
"All right, girls, teach us something," Mr. Barry cut in after "Jingle Bells."
We looked at each other slyly.
"OK," I said, "this one is called 'Grandma got run over by a reindeer."
"How awful!" Mrs. Barry exclaimed.
"It's just a song. Now, it goes like this: Grandma got run over by a reindeer, comin' down to our house Christmas Eve!"
We sang and I tried to put it on piano. The group stared at us rather blankly.
"Oh, come on you guys!" I cried, "this is a fun song! Everybody!"
And we started the chorus over again. Slowly, some people started to join in. Then, everyone got the hang of it and joined in as well. Some children even started dancing around the sitting room and Mr. Barry even got out his fiddle. It sounded kind of weird, but it didn't matter because we were all having too much fun. It was so funny to watch the old ladies looking horrified at the lyrics. Oh, well, some people just can't wing it.
The song ended with a bang. I swear I almost wet my pants, it was so hilarious. Before everyone left, we sang some verses of "Silent Night" with lit candles around the room and continued all the way on the walk home. It was very magical. Christmas in Avonlea was different and wonderful, but it did have a slight emptiness without the company of my family. But, I quickly shook that feeling off when Mrs. Lynde brought hot chocolate in bed with some cookies. I felt better right away and Sara came to sleep with us in our room. Mike came for a while until he got too tired and fell asleep on my sore feet. To wake him, we stuck an ice cube down his back. Another round of laughter followed as Mike raced around the room, hopping up and down and arching his back. The ice cube fell on the floor and eventually so did he. He collapsed on the carpet and gasped for a few minutes, catching his breath. Still trying to catch mine, I said, "Go to bed, Mike." And he went, most insulted and embarrassed, I could tell.
We dropped breathlessly into our beds that night, dreaming of holly and waltz's and warm toes (especially me.) The snow fell in slants across the window. There was something so peaceful about snow falling in slants past your window and you're in the warmth of the house watching it. It's so comfortable. But none of us really cared, for we fell asleep as soon as our heads hit the pillows.
Christmas morning dawned bright and fair. We were to spend Christmas dinner at the Barrys with quite a few other classmates. I woke up at seven, yawning and stretching, and sliding out of my bed, wrapping my arms tightly around my flannel nightgown. I put on my slippers and yawned my way into the sitting room where the tree was. Mike was still sleeping on the couch. I sat in front of the tree, gazing up at it with wondering eyes. It was beautiful, even without electric lights spun around it. It looked so…so home-like, with its homemade ornaments and others given at special occasions. I guess no one had invented Baby's First Christmas yet, all of the ornaments were of wreaths and holly and other such greenery. Mike stirred next to me and squinted his eyes open.
"Morning," he mumbled, turning over. I looked under the tree at the neatly wrapped presents and remembered some I had wrapped. I tiptoed back into the bedroom where Mell was still sleeping and grabbed some packages from under my bed to place them under the tree. I heard some movement in the other room and went to see if Sara was awake. I walked over to the door.
"Shire…" I whispered into the knob, "Bagginsssssssss…"
"Ann, come in, you Ringwraith," I heard a voice say. I opened the door, grinning.
"So, what did you dream about?"
She raised her eyebrows a couple times.
"Which one?"
"Oh, so there's more than one?"
"Gil or Frodo?"
I shook my head, laughing.
"Merry Christmas, Sara."
"Merry Christmas."
Two hours later, after a delicious meal of bacon and eggs, we sat around the tree, giving out gifts. Mrs. Lynde handed us each a lumpy package. I opened mine to find a bright red, knitted scarf. Sara had purple, Mell had blue and Mike had green.
I handed my presents out.
"Here, Sara." It was small box, filled with tissue paper. She flipped open the top and pulled out a plain gold ring, with little engravings on it.
"To go with your gold chain," I said.
"It is perfect."
"Mell, I got you this."
She pulled out a bag of pencils.
"Now, you'll have no excuse to say that you don't have any pencils to do your math homework or your doodling." She laughed.
"And, yes, you Mike," I gave him a present.
"A book?"
"Yeah, in hopes you might start to like reading books, as you're in one currently."
"What is it?"
"The Hound of the Baskervilles. Guess who helped me pick it out?"
The day passed with continuous delights. Anne stopped by with cherry preserves Marilla had made and handing us all a gift. I received a journal, a pretty one with pale purple coverings and a plum colored ribbon as a bookmark.
"It's beautiful," I told her and I gave her a hug.
The Christmas party at the Barrys was the highlight of the day. Sara certainly enjoyed herself because the Blythes were there. Gilbert handed her a hair ribbon of royal blue, which she wore in her hair the entire time after.
The Barrys also had a piano and we had fun going through any song we could think of and singing at the top of our lungs. Mr. Barry thought we had accidentally tried some of Marilla's red current wine.
"All right, girls, teach us something," Mr. Barry cut in after "Jingle Bells."
We looked at each other slyly.
"OK," I said, "this one is called 'Grandma got run over by a reindeer."
"How awful!" Mrs. Barry exclaimed.
"It's just a song. Now, it goes like this: Grandma got run over by a reindeer, comin' down to our house Christmas Eve!"
We sang and I tried to put it on piano. The group stared at us rather blankly.
"Oh, come on you guys!" I cried, "this is a fun song! Everybody!"
And we started the chorus over again. Slowly, some people started to join in. Then, everyone got the hang of it and joined in as well. Some children even started dancing around the sitting room and Mr. Barry even got out his fiddle. It sounded kind of weird, but it didn't matter because we were all having too much fun. It was so funny to watch the old ladies looking horrified at the lyrics. Oh, well, some people just can't wing it.
The song ended with a bang. I swear I almost wet my pants, it was so hilarious. Before everyone left, we sang some verses of "Silent Night" with lit candles around the room and continued all the way on the walk home. It was very magical. Christmas in Avonlea was different and wonderful, but it did have a slight emptiness without the company of my family. But, I quickly shook that feeling off when Mrs. Lynde brought hot chocolate in bed with some cookies. I felt better right away and Sara came to sleep with us in our room. Mike came for a while until he got too tired and fell asleep on my sore feet. To wake him, we stuck an ice cube down his back. Another round of laughter followed as Mike raced around the room, hopping up and down and arching his back. The ice cube fell on the floor and eventually so did he. He collapsed on the carpet and gasped for a few minutes, catching his breath. Still trying to catch mine, I said, "Go to bed, Mike." And he went, most insulted and embarrassed, I could tell.