This is how it should be

Call me old fashioned. Call me (seasonally) nostalgic. At the Blue Mountain Lake Volunteer Fire Department last Sunday, a Christmas scene that felt like Christmas. Local families. Lots of kids. Everyone knows each other. Everyone cares about coming together as a community. And Santa lives down the road.

Santa gets ready to give each child a gift--and each is called by name.

In the Blue Mtn Lake fire hall, Billy Gray has his first high-powered meeting with Santa.

So, you can see this is all very down-home. A gift to the hamlet from the volunteer fire department. What’s happening in your town for the holidays? Post pictures with your comments below, or just tell us what’s going on.

Happy everything, peace on earth.

Tags:

2 Responses to “This is how it should be”

Leave a response
  1. Sherry Nemmers says:

    Thank you for writing this, Ellen. I think Bill spoke at length to my mom this year.
    (She’ll be 90 in January.)

    I was one of those children a few several decades ago, in that very same spot. Except it was in the old, original Firehouse, where they keep the trucks, not the new addition. I well remember Santa: for some years, it was my Dad, who was built for it, not just in body, but in heart.
    Merry, Merry!

    Sherry Jacobs Nemmers

  2. Todd Moe says:

    My dad played Santa at Christmas for our 4-H club when I was in junior high. Our annual pageant was held in a small town hall in Nowthen, MN. I think it was originally a country school house. We’d sing, recite poetry, put on a short skit and then my dad would march in while we sang, “Here Comes Santa Claus!”.

    One of the little neighbor kids, Henry, who was 5, would get so excited at the start of the pageant, knowing that Santa would visit the party that night. But when Santa (my dad) appeared, poor little Henry would hide under the folding chairs. Imagine his surprise, and the look on his face, when Santa knew him by name! Really was a magical time. My dad is gone now and I wouldn’t trade those memories for anything.

    I can’t remember anything from 11th grade chemistry, but I remember one of the poems we’d recite at the Northwest Sunnysiders’ 4-H Christmas Pageant:

    “I asked my grandmother what she’d like from me on Christmas Day.
    I thought perhaps some chocolate drops, or toys with which to play.

    Grandmother’s eyes just twinkled, as she shook her snowy-white head. ‘A Christmas kiss from you, my dear, is quite enough,’ she said.”

    Peace and joy.

    Todd