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The year was 1983. My small family was at last feeling relief from the long recession which had gripped our nation and scattered our family about from oil fields in far eastern Montana, to tearing up railroads in central Montana and to panning gold in central Idaho. It seemed we were forever searching for enough work to keep us in the simplest of shelters, eating the scantiest servings of food, yet still enabling us to scrape up an $80 payment monthly to pay on 10 acres in the Garnet Range of western Montana. Holding onto the 10 acres meant holding fast to our dream of building and living in our own handmade log home. When we moved into the log home, we made entry through the dirt floor basement and then climbed a ladder to the main floor. No internal walls were built and the window openings were covered with plastic. Only the beams for the next floor were up, so we placed loose boards across the beams and covered them with heavy plastic for the winter months ahead.

It was here, in our meager setting, I experienced one of my favorite Christmas seasons. A season when one thought transformed as years proceeded into a family's destiny.

My husband, Dave, had found work at a Bauxite mine just a few miles up the road, located about half way between the ghost towns of Calm and Garnet. My two eldest children, Spring and Jesse were attending Sunset School. Sunset School was a two-room schoolhouse on the Limberg Ranch at the bottom of Greenough Hill. Daniel, my youngest had turned four in May. Times were a changing for me as this was the first time in nine years that all of my children had their legs under them. Or should I say "my hands were free from carrying children, diaper bags and changes of clothes."

It so happened, in early November the school rented cross country skis for all the children. Each afternoon for a week straight, as the fog burned off to clear blue skies, the teacher would take the children to a slope near the school. She quickly taught them to mount the skis. They were quick to catch on to going down hill and side hill. It took a bit of concentration to learn up hill and a turn around with skis on. In no time at all, the kids were having a blast. At the end of the week, family members were invited to join in the fun on the slopes. There were sack lunches and hot chocolate served up. The whole afternoon was filled with excitement and laughter. We all had such a joyous time together racing, falling, laughing and smiling. I thought of how very wonderful it would be for my little family to get skis.

Spring and Jesse chattered joyfully for many evenings by lantern light at the dining table. Their eyes were all aglow as they told of their adventures with the classmates during the week of lessons. We all nurtured the thought of buying skis and decided to purchase them as our Christmas gift.

The following weekend, the five of us piled into our Chevy pickup truck and headed to town. Town, in this case, was Missoula, Montana. Our destination was the Trail Head. When we arrived at the store, we were overtaken by selection and choice. We knew nothing about selecting skis, poles, bindings and shoes. Thankfully, a salesperson gave us his undivided attention until each of us was outfitted. As we closed the sale, we realized the store would need to attach the bindings and work up some finishing touches with the skis. So the five of us left the store, five hundred dollars poorer, yet filled with grand dreams of what our Christmas season would offer. We retuned to Missoula the following weekend to pick up our skis. We loaded the skis and accompanying items in the back of the Chevy. We squeezed the five of us in the front of the truck and then headed for the grocery store as this upcoming weekend would be Thanksgiving. With the back of the truck now loaded with skis and groceries, we turned our rig around and headed for our cozy little home.

It was just so happens that our family tradition was to sing in the Christmas season on Thanksgiving. On Thanksgiving Day we were up before the crack of dawn. The lantern was lit. Our usual breakfast of pancakes and eggs were being served up. As we ate, we laid out our plan for the ay. So much to be done, so little time. I began doing the clean up after breakfast and busied myself with preparation work for Thanksgiving dinner. Dave and the kids worked on getting the wood split and carried into the basement for the barrel stove. They then split up plenty of kindling for the wood cook stove, as we would need to keep it stoked to bake our turkey. Once our chores were completed, the turkey placed in the oven and the stoves stoked, we bundled up. With our snow pants, jackets, gloves and ski boots on, we rushed out the basement door into the wonderland of snow. The day was crisp and clear. The sun was shining brightly. As the sun touched the icy crystals of snow, the crystals reflected like diamonds. We boarded our skis. Dave took the lead as he would be cutting our first trail. Spring lined out next, then Jesse, then little Daniel. I picked up the rear. As mom, I knew with it being Daniel's and my first time out on skis, it would be the two of us who would need the most tending. And we were! I was mostly good at falling and I'm telling you, it was quite a tangle of skis and poles going every which way. We all had a grand time laughing, falling, chatting and looking. Yes, looking, looking at the beauty of the day and the way the snow piled on the trees and bushes, looking at the animal tracks and at the diamonds reflecting in the snow, looking at the clear blue sky and the view of the Garnet Range and the Swan Range. Also looking for a Christmas tree we could chop and take home.

When we found a tree, we could all agree on, Dave chopped it down for us. By the time we started back home, our poor little Daniel was so very tired it took a lot of coaching to get him to keep on keeping on. Our line up changed as we headed back with the tree. With the trail cut on the way out, Spring gracefully took lead on the way back to the house. Jesse lined out next. He also glided along with ease. Our poor little Daniel lined out next. I helped him with every move. He was so tired. He had burned up so much energy on the track out that he had little left to muster up for the track back home. Dave brought up the rear, as he dragged our fresh cut Christmas tree.

Upon arriving home, I went to putting on the finishing touches for Thanksgiving dinner. Spring and Jesse set the table. Daniel collapsed for a nap on the couch. Dave strummed his guitar and sang us his wonderful country songs. We had a grand Thanksgiving dinner. Giving thanks first for Christ who fills our hearts and lives with abundant joy, then for our nation which struggled to move forward out of the recession. Then offers of thanks for our family. Thankful for the warm home, delicious meal, Dave's job and our new skis that gifted us a day of fun and our Christmas tree.

Following dinner, we placed the Christmas tree by the dining room window. The sun glistened in through the plastic window as we placed tinsel garland, bulbs and ornaments. As evening set in, we watched the tree with enchantment. A white crocheted angle topped it. The ornament reflected light from the flickering lantern on the table.

That Christmas season we made it a habit of going out on our skis. We toured many a trail on the Garnet and Swan ranges. We took our skis to Seeley Lake. We skied from Grandma Aggie's to Grandma Maye's. We skied to the sledding hill. We skied around the lake.

As the years went on, life changed in oh so many ways. The skiing became a part of our character. As winter neared, with great excitement, we planned to gather together. We met in different places. We laughed and played together.

Family has grown, as 28 years have now passed. I have grayed and get out on the slopes seldom. Yet, I rest assured that gift of very long ago keeps on going. As my sons have acquired their own acreage on the Garnet Range, they have built a half pipe. They gather to snowboard. They stay for hours and days in the snow. Our Christmas season 1983 moved from thought to act, to habit to character and has become our destiny.

Mickey Radon
Kamiah

(Reprinted from 2011)

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Merry Christmas

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From Evelyn & the Crew

at the Guide Shop
& Clearwater Drifters

As we guide throughout the year, we see many successes that bring a certain joy. May you and your family find a more lasting joy in the special feelings of Christmas and a prosperous New Year.

www.theguideshop.com


To see previous Christmas Memories just click on the date:

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