Christmas Day

October 9, 2008
By Katelyn Bunch, Uniondale, IN

Christmas Day

It was the brink of Christmas morning; the ground was covered in a white, shimmering blanket of snow and the trees naked and bare with icicles hanging down. Little Jeanette awoke with a start and glanced around her room. The walls were covered in her favourite shade of sapphire blue and the dresser along the far wall held all of her most prized possessions. Her most cherished possession was a leather bound journal that her mother had given her this past year for her birthday. The pages were a very pale forest green, and she only wrote in it with her jade colour ink that her mother also had bestowed her.
As Jeanette looked around the room, she noticed that her world had changed overnight. It had become a dream-like place where everything was covered in white glitter and clouds. As quietly as she could, Jeanette crept towards her balcony door to gaze upon the magical place. Once outside, Jeanette walked over to where she had fashioned small haven for the birds that remained in Geneva. She noticed that there was a small bird that was sitting on the ledge enjoying the feast she has set out the night before. Jeanette was so excited to observe the little creature that she didn’t notice the presence of another person. When Jeanette turned around to go back to her room to get her journal, she noticed her mother was watching her.

Startled she said, “Oh, why good morning, Mother. I did not realize you were there.”

“Good morning, Darling,” replied Gene, “Dear, it would be in your best interest if you came inside. There is a terrible cold going around, and you are going to catch it.”

“Please, Mother? Can’t I stay out? Just a bit longer? I just found this bird that I would love to note down in my journal.”

Smiling warmly Gene answer back, “Very well, but please do me a favour and at least put a coat on.”

“Yes Mother!” replied an excited Jeanette.

“Just remember, you promised yesterday that you would help clean the house before our guests arrive. Have fun.”

Later that day, after all the chores were completed, Jeanette was playing in the music room with her two darling toys, a Golden Eagle and Blue Heron. She was playing her preferred game in which she was finding new animals in the Loblolly Marsh. She was recording all of her findings in the special journal. In the mist of her fun, Gene came in and asked if Jeanette would like to play the pump organ.

“Dear, would you like to play your favourite Christmas song?” asked Gene.

“Only if I can push the pedals,” joked Jeanette.

“Well then, why don’t you play the whole thing?”

“All by myself?!!? I’ve never played a song all myself before!”

“Why, of course, dear!”

“Oh, thank you, Mother!”

“You’re quite welcomed,” Gene smiled.

This was a rare treat. Rarely did Jeanette ever play an instrument without the help of others. Normally, Jeanette would help work the pedals while either her mother or father played the keys. That day Jeanette played her favourite songs while her mother smiled and sang every one of them with Jeanette. At the end of the day, Jeanette sat at the end of her bed and wrote on the pale green pages about her fun today, and forever saved the memories of her favourite Christmas Day in jade ink.

The author's comments:
I wrote this piece after my honors 10 english class went on a field trip to Gene Stratton-Porter's genovia home. It was orgnially for an assignment that was suppose to focus on a room we saw.

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