I can't believe it's been almost exactly a year since I last posted to this blog. It's interesting how I have less time to write now that I'm retired. I have gotten involved in several volunteer organizations and find myself getting ready to become President of one of them in May. My only grandchild was born in October of 2021 and lives close by, so he has become the most looked-forward-to part of every week. I joined a DNA study for my Wheat family side that has involved learning how to use WikiTree and keeping up with matches. It has also led to a new friendship with one of my distant Wheat cousins who lives in Kentucky; we communicate by email or text every few days and talk on the phone often. It seems I have something to do almost every day, and I have found I have less ability to multi-task the older I get.
I have to say that I haven't had any genealogical breakthroughs lately either, although I hope to write about one at the conclusion of the Wheat family study. So far, that looks unlikely, although we think we have decided who our common Wheat ancestors are not. What I want to write about today is the other side of my family, the Castle/Smith side. They always predominated at the holidays, because my dad's twin brother, Mack, and almost all my paternal grandmother's siblings lived close by when I was growing up and were always a part of our celebrations. This year was no exception, although so many who were an important part of past Christmases are now gone.
As my son and my brother's daughter have gotten older and started their own families, it has become harder and harder to schedule a time when we can all get together to celebrate birthdays or holidays. This year we finally decided to postpone our Christmas celebration until the afternoon of New Year's Eve. We would all meet at my house for lunch-y snacks, Dirty Santa for the adults, and presents to unwrap for the little ones--my grandson and my brother's granddaughter and grandson. In making our plans for the day, my brother Tim asked if there was anything special we did during our childhood Christmas celebrations. I think he was mainly asking about food, but I reminded him that our Christmas Eve get-togethers with our Uncle Mack's family in the 1950's and 60's usually involved a "program" of readings, songs, and poems, along with food and enthusiastic unwrapping of presents.
We're not talking anything classical here--somebody picked out "Jingle Bells" on the piano, somebody read the Christmas story, but my grandmother always recited a poem that she had learned for a Christmas program at school when she was in 3rd or 4th grade. We marveled that she could recite it word-for-word after 60 years; in fact, she knew 2 or 3 narrative poems by heart that she recited until she was 90, 80 years after she learned them in elementary school. We begged her to recite all of them whenever we got together for any kind of celebration, but I especially loved the one she recited at Christmas about Santa Claus on an immigrant train. Back to that later--
Since Tim was in a nostalgic frame of mind, I decided to create a slide show of photographs from family Christmases--from my 2nd Christmas in 1954 to his daughter's first Christmases in the 1990's. It was when I was looking for these photographs that I found one that was a lot older and would become a great addition to a get-together with our Castle cousins on Christmas Day. It was a professional photograph of the whole Castle family on Christmas Day 1942. That's the other part of this story.
Last year I got together with my cousin Ann's family at a restaurant dinner and then at her house for their family Christmas. Tim wasn't able to come last year, so this year he contacted our cousin Jayne, Ann's daughter, and asked if we could see them Christmas evening. We had both had Christmas with our respective nuclear families earlier in the day, which is why we couldn't do our joint Christmas celebration on Christmas Day, but we could both make it to Ann's for their family get-together that evening. I took the Castle photograph I had found. I don't know if you have done the math, but that photograph had been taken exactly 80 years ago to the day. Only two people in the photograph are still living, and one of them is my cousin Ann, seen at the far right on the front row.
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| Castle Family, Christmas Day 1942 |
Ann, Tim, and I were the only ones who could identify the people in the photograph, and none of us were sure about all the little boys. Using information from my family tree on Ancestry, I think I have been able to identify all the children of the 8 Castle siblings that were born by Christmas Day 1942.
So that was Christmas Day. Fast forward a week and my brother and his family were at my house for our Christmas celebration on New Year's Eve. We ate and visited and opened presents, then it was time for the program. It was pretty relaxed, but those that wanted to took turns with their parts of the program. My grandson Jack managed a few toots on a plastic flute; the little ones jingled bells while we all sang "Jingle Bells"; Tim's granddaughter sang her favorite Christmas song, "Last Christmas"; her father, who is from Liverpool, told us about English Christmas traditions; and I read the poem my grandmother used to recite, "Santa Claus on the Train."
I can't believe I found it! I have looked for it for decades and had just about given up. This time I googled from my phone which gave different results than googling from my laptop. It took me to the blog of a woman whose mother had recited that same poem in a Christmas program when she was in school. The blog included a photograph of a faded and torn copy of the poem. It must have been a Christmas miracle, because I can't find it now using the same search I used a month ago. So--here it is--the poem my grandmother recited from memory 80 years after she learned it and I read to my family on New Year's Eve 2022.
Santa
Claus on the Train
On
a Christmas Eve an emigrant train
Sped
on through the blackness of night
And
cleft the pitchy dark in twain
With
the gleam of its fierce headlight.
In
a crowded car, a noisome place,
Sat
a mother and her child;
The
woman’s face bore want’s wan trace,
But
the little one only smiled.
And
tugged and pulled at her mother’s dress,
And
her voice had a merry ring,
As
she lisped, “Now, mamma, come and guess
What
Santa Claus’ll bring.”
But
sadly her mother shook her head,
As
she thought of a happier past;
“He
never can catch us here,” she said,
“The
train is going too fast.”
“O,
mamma, yes, he’ll come, I say,
So
swift are his little deer,
They
run all over the world today;
I’ll
hang my stocking up here.”
She
pinned her stocking to the seat,
And
closed her tired eyes;
And
soon she saw each longed-for sweet
In
dreamland’s paradise.
On
a seat behind the little maid
A
rough man sat apart,
But
a soft light o’er his features played,
And
stole into his heart.
As
the cars drew up at a busy town
The
rough man left the train,
But
scarce had from the steps jumped down
Ere
he was back again.
And
a great big bundle of Christmas joys
Bulged
out from his pocket wide;
He
filled the stocking with sweets and toys
He
laid by the dreamer’s side.
At
dawn the little one woke with a shout,
‘Twas
sweet to hear her glee;
“I
knowed that Santa Claus would find me out;
He
caught the train you see.”
Though
some from smiling may scarce refrain,
The
child was surely right,
The
good St. Nicholas caught the train,
And
came aboard that night.
For
the saint is fond of masquerade
And
may fool the old and wise,
And
so he came to a little maid
In
an emigrant’s disguise.
