A recent comment reminded me of a most wonderful Christmas (a couple actually) when I was around 5 to 8 years old. An Internet acquaintance, referring to the lyrics of 'Jingle Bells', thought that the line "Sleigh bells in the snow" was rather odd. And so it is if taken literally, since bells in the snow would be somewhat muffled! But I knew right away what it might refer to - this is my story:

My mother entered a sanatarium hospital with tuberculosis shortly after I was born. I did not see her again till I was nearly three. In the months after she came home, she went from invalid (the strange lady who stayed in bed, who I was not allowed to see), to gradually doing kitchen chores. Her participation in this Christmas event makes it all the more memorable for me.

We lived in a part-log, part lumber farmhouse with no plumbing or electricity. It was drafty and often cold so we huddled close to the woodstove or the coal heater as we needed.

On Christmas Eve we had a family dinner, then our nearest neighbors would visit for coffee and goodies around mid-evening, and stay till near midnight.

Then on this particular Christmas, it began to snow in mid-afternoon, with flakes becoming bigger and bigger, till they were nearly an inch across. By the time dinner was over, it was about 5 inches deep. such heavy snows are always accompanied by a warming trend, bringing the temperature up to a few degrees below freezing.

My Dad went to the corner of the fenced yard where an old sleigh, made from the body of a Model T Ford, had sat for some years, surrounded by uncut grass. He took a shovel and cleared away the deep snow, then used a crowbar to pry up the sled runners which were frozen to the ground. He swept the accumulated snow from the seat and the floor.

We had two aging horses named Wolly and Tilly; a mother-daughter pair, gifts from my maternal grandfather, my 'Afi'; but there were three sets of harness. Two were purely functional, but the third set had bells attached in several places. Dad used this set along with one other to dress the horses, led them to the sleigh, and pulled it out of the corner, over the snowbank that held it captive.

The sleigh was brought to the kitchen door, and Mommy was led out, bundled for warmth, and placed in the seat with blankets piled above and below. With me in the middle, Dad clucked to the horses and snapped the reins, and away we went, snowflakes piling down by the bucketful, and bells jingling with every step the horses took.

I seem to recall a moon shining hazily through clouds, because I could easily see the huge falling flakes, the flying hooves, the dancing harness. There was no electricity on any farm around in those days. Had we had the gasoline lantern with us, surely the sizzle of snowflakes on the hot globe would have remained in my memory along with the jingling of the bells and the taste of fresh snowflakes on my tongue.

I never had to wonder what "Sleigh bells in the snow" was about. I remains in one of my earlest childhood memories. I think we repeated that jingling ride at least once, but only that one time was all of the magic firmly in place.