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The Christmas Angel
This
is one of my favorite Christmas stories. It was taken out of Bess’s
journal by her great-granddaughter, Tamra K. Stitt. Many years ago Tamra
gave me permission to share this story as she felt that it belonged to a
greater audience than her family. I hope that you enjoy it as much as I
have.
~Janet Walgren
Christmas Angel
In
the early 1900’s my great grandfather homesteaded what is called Burns
Creek, Idaho which is located about fifteen miles above Heise Hot
Springs. My Great Grandfather was a rough, tough old trapper who built
the first road along the Snake River to Tablerock and then on to Burns
Creek by hand. He had lived in the wild all his life. He trapped for a
living and sent his furs to a fur trader who arranged to send his
daughter out to Idaho for Carl to marry. My great grandmother was
seventeen years old when they were married. She kept a detailed journal
of her experiences in her new home. She hated Burns Creek, Idaho. She
wrote how isolated and alone she felt. She wrote the following story in
her journal.
Bess
was now twenty-four years old and pregnant with her fourth child. She
had asked Carl if he would take some of his furs to the valley and trade
them for supplies and the things she had asked for on her Christmas
list. She was embarrassed at how much she was asking for. Her list
consisted of peppermint, chocolate and a little piece of yard goods to
make her only little girl a new dress. Carl agreed to make the trip to
the valley and also to bring her home a Christmas tree. He left her in
fine shape. He had chopped lots of wood and all she had to do for the
three days he would be gone was go to the barn and milk the old cow.
She
wrote that the first day he was gone that she and the children made
cookies for Christmas and a thick pudding. They made paper chains for
the tree their father would bring back to them. The second day a
tremendous blizzard hit the mountain. It snowed and the wind howled for
the next two days. When the storm finally subsided, she wrote how she
tried to get out of the cabin to milk the bellering old cow, but that an
ice drift had formed over the front of the cabin. She had to take an ax
and chop through the ice to get outside. She could see how deep the
snow was, so she tied a rope around her waist and one to the door stop
and started out through the drifts towards the barn. She could see that
the snow was much too deep and the ice too slick, so “being with child”
she didn’t dare go any farther than a few yards. She turned around and
went back to the cabin. She felt bad for the cow and said a silent
prayer that Carl would hurry home this Christmas Eve Day.
The
day came and the day went. It grew late into the night of Christmas
Eve. Bess wrote that of all Carl’s good habits… promptness was his very
best trait. She knew in her heart that something dreadful must have
happened or he would have returned home by now. The children grew cranky
and could not understand why their father and their tree had not
arrived. She wrote she was just about to put them to bed when a knock at
the door sent her heart flying. She knew it must be Carl. Her oldest
little boy flung the door open…and Bess wrote her heart sunk. For there
on the other side of the cabin door stood the stragliest old trapper she
had ever seen. But to three little children on Christmas Eve, an old
man with a white beard, a pack on his back and a tree in his hand was
certainly welcome. They started to shout, “It’s Santa… It’s Santa.”
The
trapper must have sensed the fear in Bess, for he looked her directly
in the eye and said “Bess, Don’t be afraid. Carl is at Tablerock in
Spaulding’s trapper’s cabin with a lame horse. He couldn’t make it any
farther tonight and I was out on snowshoes checking my traps and agreed
that as long as I was coming this way, I would bring you this pack and
this tree and he would be along in the morning.” Bess invited him in and
fed him hot stew. He put the tree up and helped the children hang their
ornaments. Bess judged him to be a good man, as he could recite the
story of the nativity by heart. She put the children to bed. The old
trapper brought wood in and milked the cow. She asked him if he would
like to spend the night in the barn. He said that would be good. He told
her he didn’t have any family and he had very much enjoyed spending
this Christmas Eve with her children. She thanked him for his trouble an
invited him to join them in the morning for Christmas breakfast. He
seemed very happy.
The
trapper retired to the barn and this was the first time Bess had been
able to look inside Carl’s pack. Her heart soared. In the pack were:
peppermint, chocolate and a beautiful piece of yard goods. Her Christmas
would be perfect. She put the pack under the tree with the hand-carved
horses and sleighs for the boys and the dollhouse for her little girl
that Carl had so carefully carved himself. She then went to bed herself,
feeling content knowing Carl was safe and her Christmas was perfect.
The
morning came and Bess was caught up in the children’s excitement. It
was late into the morning when she realized the old trapper had not
joined them for Christmas breakfast. By this time her little boy was
shouting that he could see his father coming over the hill. They all met
him at the door. The children were so excited to tell their father they
had their “very own Santa Claus locked in the barn!” Carl looked
perplexed and sent the children into the house. He looked at Bess and
asked her who was in the barn. She quickly explained that it was just
the old trapper he had sent with the tree and pack. That she had let him
spend the night in the barn to repay him for his kindness.
Carl
looked so puzzled and then he explained. He had never made it to the
valley. He had made it as far as Tablerock when the storm hit. He went
to the trappers cabin to wait the storm out. When he was tying his horse
by the river, he saw an old trapper fall through the mush ice. It took
three of them to get him pulled out from under the ice. When they took
him into the cabin, they knew would never make it. So they wrapped him
in a blanket and laid him by the fire. The storm had subsided some and
they decided to go ahead and try to make it to the valley. The three
saddled their horses and started back down the road. Carl said he had
only went a few hundred yards, when a strange feeling came over
him. He could not just go leave that old man to die alone at Christmas.
He
sent the “two young bucks” onto the valley and he returned to the
trappers cabin and to the old man. He told Bess he just kept the fire
going and the old man would drift in and out of consciousness. Carl said
he told the old trapper about his wife and family and how disappointed
they would be that he never made it to the valley to pick up the
peppermint, chocolate and little piece of yard goods for Christmas. He
told him how much he loved his family and how he looked forward to just
being back home with them. But for right now they were alone and without
a Christmas tree on Christmas eve. The old man died in Carl’s arms.
Bess
started to cry. The pages in her journal are tear stained as she wrote
how she knew that she would find no trapper in the barn. There were no
snowshoe tracks in the snow. She told Carl that she thought she had
had the greatest blessing on earth… She had been allowed to entertain
an angel on Christmas Eve because Carl had shown such unconditional
love of Christ through caring for a dying old trapper on Christmas Eve.
There was no trapper in the barn… but, she told Carl she had proof he
had been there… for in the cabin underneath the Christmas tree was the
pack with peppermint, chocolate and a little piece of yard goods.
She
wrapped up the yard goods in white paper and left them to me with a
letter telling me never to use the fabric, for it was from heaven. She
told this story countless times to our family and it has become part of
our Christmas tradition.
My Great Grandmother died when I was six years old… on Christmas day!
~ Tamra K. Stitt
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