Christmas Magic In Michigan

In all my life I’d never seen such a boy inter wasn’t like this back in Dallas. I stood at the window, looking out at the snow. My first-ever blizzard. First blizzard, first snowfall, first Christmas spent in Michigan.

- Joy Morgan Davis

When my husband, Andrew, an engineer, received a three-month assignment at an aeronautical plant in Detroit he thought it would be a grand adventure for our family. I wasn’t so sure. But I put on my brave face and went shopping for boots, parkas, wool caps and mittens. Now we’d barely been in Michigan three weeks when the blizzard hit.

I turned away from the window to put away some laundry. We had found a great house to rent, fully furnished with linens and tableware. There was even a piano where our daughter, Drew Ann, could practice. The elderly couple who owned it was spending the winter in Florida. Smart people! I hung a thick sweater in the closet. I wish I was in the South, I thought. Away from this cold.

I’d tried to share Andrew’s enthusiasm for our “adventure.” But in truth I didn’t see the good in upending our lives. The children were in a new school. My son, William, was seeing a new orthodontist. I had scrambled to find fill-ins for my committees at church, school and the women’s club. I’d miss performing with the choir at Christmas, the organ music filling the air with such beauty. We’d left all that behind in Texas, all that and my holiday spirit.

I found myself alone a lot. More than I was accustomed to. Andrew worked long hours at the plant, even on weekends. The children were in school all day. And now, on a Saturday, they had rushed out as soon as they finished their hot cereal. “We want to watch the ice skaters at the park,” William said as he pulled on his mittens. “The pond is completely frozen!” added Drew Ann, as if this was an amazing occurrence. They had never seen anything like it.

The two of them left the house stuffed into their parkas, looking like Admiral Peary setting off for the North Pole.