The early 1960s was a time of
transition in rural BC. Many rural areas
had electricity for the first time. It was
also a time of transition in my family as my oldest sister returned home with
her two small children, to regroup after her marriage ended.
We lived in a log house my father
built in the rural community of Horsefly.
The arrival of electricity was an event that few nowadays could possibly
appreciate. We no longer needed coal oil
lanterns for light, the pie safe outside to keep food cool, or the wringer washer to wash
clothes. Mom no longer had to can meat, fish, fruit, and vegetables to prevent
spoiling as we quickly acquired a large deep freeze.
Even before power arrived my mother
bought a shiny new electric steam iron.
She was as good as her word -- the day we got electricity she threw away
all her “sad irons” that had to be heated on the old wood cookstove. Clothing could be dried in the new electric
dryer rather than hung on the line in freezing weather. For months after we had electricity, we would
grab a flashlight when it was time for bed because we would forget all we
needed was to flip a switch in the bedrooms.
Of course, we never shopped in the big
department stores, they were too far away.
Besides, we didn’t need to as we had the miracle of the Christmas “wish
books” from Eaton’s and Simpsons Sears.
As children, we would spend hours looking through their colourful pages,
viewing every wonderful toy, game, puzzle, candy, sporting goods, books, party
dresses and new shoes.
However, for more basic items we had
the black and white Army and Navy catalogue from which my mother would order my
father’s work clothes, long underwear, and wool socks. The only thing I thought was not boring about
the Army and Navy was that they sent bonus gifts based, I believe, on the
amount you spent. There was always much
speculation on what the bonus gift would be because you didn’t get to choose
it, it simply arrived in your parcel.
As Christmas approached, we were
experiencing an extremely cold winter.
Feeding livestock, milking our cow, shoveling snow, and the like were
done as quickly as possible due to the extreme cold. Inside, the house was decorated, the Christmas
baking was done, Christmas cards had been mailed and received. We listened to Cariboo Radio for Christmas
music, message time, news, and the weather report.
When the bulky parcel arrived from the
Army and Navy there was much speculation as to what the bonus gift would be
that year. Bundled in the middle of
heavy clothes, long underwear and socks was a large package of outdoor
Christmas lights. No one in our community had progressed to outdoor lights, and
we had barely mastered the challenge of using indoor tree lights. Those old
enough will recall they had to be untangled, checked and double checked because
when one light burned out, they all stopped working!
Between working full time, taking care
of the livestock and figuring out the new indoor tree lights my father and my
brother were busy. Perhaps the cold had
something to do with their lack of commitment.
My mother and sister were not women to shy away from progress (remember
the steam iron). Besides, these lights
were free! After the men left for work
the next day my sister asked me to look after my little niece and nephew inside,
while she and mom executed their Grand Plan outside.
Dressed in layers of clothing as defense against the frigid cold, they headed outside. Now in our yard was the prettiest evergreen
tree. My mother had planted more than
one tree, but this was the lone survivor.
It was her pride and joy in her struggle to have a beautiful yard in
spite of marauding cows. The plan was to
decorate that tree with the new outdoor lights.
The little ones and I peeked out the frosted windowpanes to see how they
were doing. Surely, it wouldn’t take
long and we would have the first outdoor Christmas lights in Horsefly!
We watched as they worked and worked in the cold. Finally, they shook their heads and returned
indoors to thaw out. They reported that
every time they tried to clip a light to the end of the tree branch, the branch
would snap in the extreme cold. They
were worried they would damage mom’s tree.
Once warm again, they developed Plan
“B”. We were always discouraged from helping ourselves to our dad’s tools,
however, this was an emergency. Armed
with the necessary supplies from dad’s shop, and a ladder, they hurried again
out in the cold. They would work in
short bursts and then rush inside to warm up.
Finally, those of us inside got bored and gave up watching as it was
clear this would be a long process.
As dusk was settling in, they called
us to put on our coats and boots to see their handywork. Much to our wonderment, the front porch
roofline was strung with perfectly straight Christmas lights.
The old log house glowed in the dark,
a place of refuge and a hope for new beginnings.
Copyright remain with the author – not for publication without express permission of the author.
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