December 25, 1914
Dear Diary,
It's Christmas. I think Christmas is my favorite holiday because everyone is so happy and jolly. Our house is decorated with the nativity scene and our beloved Christmas tree. We cut down a live tree but it's covered in our favorite old decorations and tinsel. We held our Christmas service last night at eleven o'clock. I love seeing all the kids in their pajamas, holding their blankets and teddy bears and the way their eyes light up when their parents wake them up at the end of the service and tell them its Christmas morning. Our family took up a whole pew last night because Abby and Beth joined us but so did Jamie and Mrs. Forest. The service itself was so beautiful, with many songs about our Saviour's birth. My favorite Christmas song has always been O Come, All Ye Faithful. Mom told me that when I was younger, I would sing it at the top of my lungs in the middle of the store on the hottest days of July. I imagine that must've been quite a sight!
Abby and Beth spent the night last night and this morning, after a breakfast of pancakes and eggs, we opened our gifts. Our family always picks names and this year I had gotten Elizabeth, of all people. Since I knew she needed a new notebook and some pens and such, I got her a couple of beautifully bound notebooks and monogrammed pens. In her stocking, I put a new pair of silk stockings. She always used mine and although she never hurt them, I wanted her to not have to use mine. She was thrilled with her gifts. Mom had my name and she gave me a new pattern for my embroidery and a new skirt.
Mom had invited Mrs. Forest and Jamie over for dinner, much to Dad's dismay. It seemed like he hadn't even noticed that they were in church the night before but I know he had. He shook both of their hands as we had exited. Sometimes I just don't understand how Dad can preach to love everyone but then disapprove so greatly about Jamie and his Mom. It's not their fault that Mr. Forest had killed himself and he doesn't even know how well Mrs. Forest has done in raising her son and providing for them. But because it's Christmas, I didn't say anything.
It was my turn to help Mom with the dinner this year. For as long as I can remember, Dad, Abby, Steven (when he joined our family), Elizabeth, and I have taken turns helping Mom cook the dinner. No one protests having to help out because it's such great fun! I put on the apron reserved for the helper and I went to work. Mom and I peeled potatoes, and chopped veggies, and made dough. I had just stuck my hand into the raw turkey when Jamie and Mrs. Forest arrived.
"You keep going, Chary. I'm just going to talk to Rebecca for a moment."
Mom left the kitchen and I kept digging around inside the turkey to pull out any strings of fat that had been overlooked.
"Exploring one of your own kind?" Jamie asked, coming into the kitchen. I jumped and turned around.
"No!" I cried, indignant and laughing. Jamie was laughing too.
"Merry Christmas Char."
"Merry Christmas. Want to help?" I asked, hoping Mom wouldn't mind.
"Sure. What do you want me to do?"
"Well, first of all, wash your hands."
Jamie washed his hands while I finished emptying the turkey.
"Now what?"
"You can mix all the veggies together in a bowl and then add the stuff from the other bowl." I said, pointing to the piles of onion, celery, and carrots. Jamie did so and I gave the turkey one last rinse out. Then I set him in the pan and turned him so his rear was facing me.
"Okay. Now that it's all mixed, we can stuff him."
"You mean I have to put my hand inside a raw turkey?"
"That's right. Unless you're too chicken." I said, teasing him.
"No, I'm more turkey." Jamie said taking a handful of stuffing and shoving it into the turkey. I laughed and then took a handful myself. We kept on laughing so long that Mom stuck her head in and made sure we were okay. I caught her eye and she smiled and nodded at me and I knew she wasn't mad at me for asking Jamie to help.
When Jamie and I had stuffed the turkey, I pulled out a needle and thread.
"Charlotte, I don't think that this is the right time for your embroidery." Jamie said.
"I have to sew him up." I said and Jamie watched with fascination as I sewed closed the hole that used to be his neck and then his rear. I put the legs through the piece of skin that was stretched down.
"There. All done." I said, washing my hands.
"Now what?" Jamie asked.
"We need to season the veggies and put the dough on cookie sheets." I said.
"What do you want me to do?"
"You can make balls of dough and put them on the cookie sheet." I showed Jamie how to do so and then went and added all the spices to the pot of carrots and peas.
"Char? Am I doing this right?" Jamie asked a few moments later. I walked over and looked at the balls of dough.
"Yep."
"But then how come when they come out of the oven they're not like this? They're not balls of bread."
"When you're done rolling them, we have to flatten them gently with our hands." I showed him.
"Oh, I get it." Jamie said, laughing. I looked at his smiling face and saw he was looking back at me.
"What?" I asked.
"You've got a little flour on your nose." Jamie said, reaching up and touching my nose with his flour covered hands.
"Hey!" I cried, laughing. Jamie laughed too and then took the cloth and wiped away the flour. Of course, Mom and Mrs. Forest came in just as Jamie had placed the cloth on my face. We both turned to our mothers and I'm pretty sure we both turned beet red. I know I did.
"Um, we, uh…" Jamie started and then trailed off.
"The turkey's done." I blurted out suddenly. "And so are the veggies and the bread is just about done too."
Mom looked at me and then went over to inspect the turkey. Mrs. Forest was still looking at Jamie, and I could almost see the questions forming in her eyes.
"Very good Charlotte. You did a great job on the turkey." Mom said from the other side of the room.
Mrs. Forest looked away from Jamie finally and turned to the turkey. Jamie and I both breathed a sigh of relief.
"My goodness, Charlotte. You're a natural." Mrs. Forest said. "I'm sure it'll taste wonderful."
"Thank you Mrs. Forest. But I did have some help." I smiled at Jamie and he smiled back.
"Really. Is that so, James?" Mrs. Forest asked Jamie and I raised my eyebrows at him.
"James?" I thought. "No one calls him James."
Jamie ignored me and nodded at his mother.
"Well, it looks delicious." Mom put in. "Or it will after five hours in the oven."
"Five hours?!" Jamie exclaimed and we all nodded.
"Do you need anything else Mom?" I asked.
"Not for awhile Char. You can go."
"Okay. Thanks Mom."
I took off the apron and then Jamie followed me up to my room so we could talk. Luckily Dad didn't see us go up the stairs together. I flopped down on the bed and Jamie sprawled on the floor.
"So." Jamie said.
"So." I said with a smile. "Does your mom always call you James?"
"Yep. I don't say anything about it though. She knows people call me Jamie but she still calls me James."
"Which do you like better?"
"Jamie. James makes me feel like an old man."
"Jamie!"
"Well it does."
I sighed and Jamie laughed.
"Guess what I heard on the radio this morning?" Jamie asked me. I rolled over to face Jamie.
"What?"
"That on the Western Front yesterday, Christmas for them, that they called a truce and played soccer in the middle of the trenches."
"What?"
"Yeah. Apparently some men started singing carols and soon they were gathered in what they call no-man's land and were joking and then someone pulled out a soccer ball."
"Wow. And now they're fighting each other again."
"Yeah. They may kill the person they stood next to while playing soccer."
"The reality of war." I said.
"Yeah, it is. But our troops are fighting for a good cause."
It was then that I started to get worried. I had been hoping that Jamie wouldn't enlist but I had a feeling I knew what was coming. I didn't say anything for a few minutes and then Jamie spoke up again.
"Charlotte…I really don't know how to tell you this."
"Then don't." I said sharply. I watched Jamie flinch at the impact of my words and then he sighed.
"You know I don't have a choice Charlotte. On my birthday I'm going to go into Mississauga and joining a regiment."
"But Jamie…" I began but Jamie interrupted me.
"Charlotte…please. You know perfectly well that I can't not go. I'm young and strong and don't have a reason not to go."
"What about me? What about Nick and Sara and Grace? Aren't we good enough reasons? What about your mother, Jamie?" I cried out, facing him now. I was struggling to hold the tears back and one of them slipped down my cheek. Jamie got up off the floor and came and sat next to me on the bed. He wiped the tear away with his thumb.
"Of course you are-all of you are. If I didn't have to go I wouldn't. You know that Charlotte."
"But what if you don't come back, Jamie? What will I do?" I asked, the tears starting to fall more quickly.
"Don't think about that Char. Look, it's Christmas. We can talk about this later."
"I'm going to go with you. To Mississauga."
"Okay." Jamie said softly.
"Does your mom know?"
"Not yet."
"When are you going to tell her?"
"I don't know. Charlotte, will you promise me something?"
"Anything."
"Don't forget me, okay?"
"Oh Jamie. I could never forget you."
Jamie smiled and we sat there on my bed, not saying anything, for over five minutes.
Later that night, Jamie and I went to take a walk to Sara's. Or that's what we told my dad. We really went to the park and after walking around for awhile, Jamie leaned in and kissed me under the twinkling stars.
Charlotte