Editor’s Introduction
Charlotte Brechbill White began writing stories about her early life for herself and then shared them with her sisters. She never expected that they would be published. Eventually, however, she sent several of them to Morris Sider, a former professor and the editor emeritus of this journal, who encouraged her to contact me. Over the next year we worked together to create this collection of stories. The stories fall in the category of “creative nonfiction,” meaning that while every word or every conversation is not literally true, the stories faithfully represent the overall truth of Charlotte’s memories and feelings of her experiences as a child and teenager. They are mostly arranged in chronological order and each one is self-contained so that readers can dip in and out at any point.
Christmas Memories
Christmas 1953
Christmas 1953 dawned sunny with snow sparkling on the ground. I snuggled under the covers, luxuriating momentarily in the early morning sun, then bounded out of bed. It was Christmas Day! Presents would be under the tree. I hoped we wouldn’t have to wait until after breakfast to open them. I threw on my clothes and, sliding down the banister, arrived on the first floor. Mother was already in the kitchen preparing breakfast and Daddy was stoking up the stove. Oh well, breakfast wouldn’t take too long.
Christmas music was playing on the radio. Everyone was in high spirits. Love filled the air. Sisters Faye and Leola and brother J. Albert made their appearances for breakfast. Then into the living room we piled to gather around the tree. It was decorated with old fashioned bulbs we’d had for years, icicles, colored lights and a paper chain my sisters and I had made. At the top was a bright star. Red crepe bells hung from the ceiling light here in the living room and in the kitchen as well.
We heard again the Christmas story, which Daddy read from Luke 2, and had a family prayer. Then Daddy began handing out gifts; we opened them and showed them around. Finally, a big box was presented to Faye and me, a gift we were to share. Today, Christmas Day, was Faye’s birthday (she was turning nine), so she got to open the present. Inside the box was a beautiful doll in a pink flowered dress with light brown hair and blue eyes that opened and shut. We ooh-ed and ah-ed and took turns holding her for a while. Mother and Daddy looked at each other, smiling, pleased that we liked our present.
Read the rest here:
white-stories
I thoroughly enjoyed reading this story and read it non-stop. The Brechbills were our neighbors for several years when they moved from having served as missionaries in Saskatchewan. Charlotte’s older sister, Leola was only three months younger than me. We became best friends and spent much time together. My family also attended Montgomery BIC Church so I remember much of what Charlotte wrote about there. I enjoy autobiographies so maybe there are more out there that would be of interest.
Thanks, Marie! I do in fact have a couple additional memoir-type features in my files for the future.
I, (the daughter of the Charles Myers family) Went to Montgomery when the Brechbills ATTENDED. I DIDN’T KNOW CHARLOTTE WAS A WRITER. IS THER ANY WAY I CAN PURCHASE THE BOOK THAT HAS THEIR STORY IN? MY EMAIL ADDRESS IS below