One winter day as I was sitting on the river bank, I heard a group of boys coming through the willows. Christmas was only a few days off. At the church, the boys said, sacks of hard candy would be given to all the young people. Anyone who wanted a sack could have it. All you had to do was to walk inside the church and get it.
As I watched the splinters of river ice, I thought only of the tall sacks of hard rock candy they had talked about. To them the candy might not have meant much, but to me it was something that cost more than I ever hoped to earn.
During the next few days, all I thought about was the sack of candy. I thought of walking inside the church and getting my sack of candy and as quickly as possible hurrying back inside the willow grove and working my way to the creek. Of course people inside the church would stare. But if I was fast on my feet, they wouldn’t have long to stare.
As Christmas day came nearer, I began to sneak to the top of the bank and measure with my eyes the distance from the giant maple to the door of the church. And the more I measured the distance, the farther it seemed to be. While I was inside the church I would not have the time to stop after I had picked up my sack of candy to thank God for it. But then, I could do this easy enough when I reached the banks of the river again. Maybe, when I grew up and earned enough money to buy good clothes and have my hair cut, I could go back inside the church and thank Him proper.
Christmas day came to the valley. I was more scared than I had ever been in my life. At the mouth of Catlettscreek, I stopped and bent over the small stream and splashed the cold water against my face, and the wind dried it and cold pimples ran up and down my back.
I hurried to the mouth of the Big Sandy and waited at the top of the bank behind the maple until I was sure that everyone was inside the church. I closed my eyes a moment and then ran out from behind the maple and didn’t stop till I was at the door of the church. I stood for a minute to catch my breath and maneuvered around in front of the door as carefully as I would have moved around a snapper turtle.
The door opened with a squeak and I sneaked inside. At the far end of the room a woman stood beside a large wooden table. On top of the table were white sacks. The woman at the tabled called out the name of a class and a group of girls stood and walked single file down the aisle. As they passed by the table, they were each handed a sack. Then another name was called, and a group of boys even smaller than myself passed by the table, reaching for the sacks of candy that seemed so big they weighed the boys down.
As I stood at the end of the room, I became more scared than ever. All I could see were the tall sacks of candy. Right now I was too scared to move, yet I had come too far to turn back. I scanned the room for boys that I had seen at the river. I waited until they stood and started down the aisle, and then I fell in behind them like a duck that belongs to the same flock. I kept my eyes peeled to the floor, never once looking up. The legs of the table came into sight and I raised my head and stared into the eyes of the woman at the table.
“This boy is not in my class,” she said, in a voice that seemed to shake the walls of the church.
“Nor mine either,” another woman answered from the first bench.
“Nor mine,” another voice said.
“He doesn’t belong here at all.”
Tears filled my eyes, and for a minute I was too scared to move. People were staring at me and many of them shaking their heads. I knew now that all I wanted was to make it back to the rivers. This red brick church was not for me. I realized that I had been planning on getting something that did not belong to me. I turned and ran as fast as I could, down the steps of the church, and I didn’t stop even at the small creek. I splashed in and the water circled my knees, and on the other side I fell to the sand and buried my head in my arms and cried. A short time ago, the sack of candy had meant almost as much to me as the two rivers. Now it meant nothing. Even if I had gotten it, I couldn’t have taken it home. They would have thought that I had stolen it – or begged it, which would have been worse.
I stayed on the banks of the river below the house until the shadows crossed the water. Tears had frozen on my face and where I had waded the creek my legs were so cold they were numb. Then I heard footsteps on the frozen grass. And when I looked up Mom was standing over me. She did not quarrel because I had stayed away from home so long without her knowing where I was. She knelt beside me and I felt her arms around my shoulders.
“Hush now,” she said. “Time comes that even a man has to tell what’s wrong. Tell me.”
And stuttering worse than a jay bird, I told her how I had wanted to steal the sack of candy, expecting her to break a willow switch at any moment.
But there were tears in her eyes, too. And she held me close.
“Maybe it is better for our kind to give our thanks under the willows here. Prayers have far enough to climb without being hemmed in by the walls and the roof of an old building.”
“But,” I said, “maybe God don’t know that I’m down here. He didn’t see me in the church, and I didn’t see Him.”
“Hush now with foolish talk,” Mom said. “If He can see a little bird like a sparrow, you know that He can see a big boy like you.”
Mom pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wet it over her tongue and wiped my face and the wind dried it.
And that evening Mom left the house and did not come back until after dark. I heard her come in during the night and pull the covers over us as she always did. But she stayed by our bed longer than usual this time. And the next morning when I woke I felt something hard under my pillow and when I reached down to find out what it was, I pulled out a small sack. And inside the sack was hard rock candy.
I jumped from the bed and ran into the room where Mom and Dad slept. “Look, Mom!” I yelled. “Look what God has given us!”
“Pon my word,” Mom said, “who’d have thought a prayer could have traveled that fast? Now, if you want to make the Lord happy, you’ll share with the rest of the family.”
As I walked out of the room, I wondered why my brothers and sisters didn’t ask the Lord for a sack of candy themselves. I sneaked a handful out of the sack and stuck it into my pocket, so that they wouldn’t know how much the Lord had given me. I divided the rest with them and then I ran to the river bank to eat what was in my pocket.
When I reached the bank, I was so happy that I wanted to run and shout to both rivers. I looked into the clouds and thought of my prayer scaling the blue walls faster than a stream of smoke. But as I ran through the trees, I slipped over a stump and fell to the earth. The hard rock candy fell out of my pocket and rolled over the sand, picking up sand like a snowball scooping up snow. One by one the pieces rolled down the steep bank and into the river. The Lord had seen me sneak the candy into my pocket back at the house.
Mom was right. He didn’t have any trouble at all seeing me here on earth.
This story is from “Appalachian Christmas Stories,” first published by the Jesse Stuart Foundation in 1997. The book can be purchased on this website, by emailing sales@jsfbooks.com, or by calling 606-326-1667.
Best wishes for a happy and healthy holiday season from your friends at the Jesse Stuart Foundation.
By James M. Gifford
JSF CEO & Senior Editor
One winter day as I was sitting on the river bank, I heard a group of boys coming through the willows. Christmas was only a few days off. At the church, the boys said, sacks of hard candy would be given to all the young people. Anyone who wanted a sack could have it. All you had to do was to walk inside the church and get it.
As I watched the splinters of river ice, I thought only of the tall sacks of hard rock candy they had talked about. To them the candy might not have meant much, but to me it was something that cost more than I ever hoped to earn.
During the next few days, all I thought about was the sack of candy. I thought of walking inside the church and getting my sack of candy and as quickly as possible hurrying back inside the willow grove and working my way to the creek. Of course people inside the church would stare. But if I was fast on my feet, they wouldn’t have long to stare.
As Christmas day came nearer, I began to sneak to the top of the bank and measure with my eyes the distance from the giant maple to the door of the church. And the more I measured the distance, the farther it seemed to be. While I was inside the church I would not have the time to stop after I had picked up my sack of candy to thank God for it. But then, I could do this easy enough when I reached the banks of the river again. Maybe, when I grew up and earned enough money to buy good clothes and have my hair cut, I could go back inside the church and thank Him proper.
Christmas day came to the valley. I was more scared than I had ever been in my life. At the mouth of Catlettscreek, I stopped and bent over the small stream and splashed the cold water against my face, and the wind dried it and cold pimples ran up and down my back.
I hurried to the mouth of the Big Sandy and waited at the top of the bank behind the maple until I was sure that everyone was inside the church. I closed my eyes a moment and then ran out from behind the maple and didn’t stop till I was at the door of the church. I stood for a minute to catch my breath and maneuvered around in front of the door as carefully as I would have moved around a snapper turtle.
The door opened with a squeak and I sneaked inside. At the far end of the room a woman stood beside a large wooden table. On top of the table were white sacks. The woman at the tabled called out the name of a class and a group of girls stood and walked single file down the aisle. As they passed by the table, they were each handed a sack. Then another name was called, and a group of boys even smaller than myself passed by the table, reaching for the sacks of candy that seemed so big they weighed the boys down.
As I stood at the end of the room, I became more scared than ever. All I could see were the tall sacks of candy. Right now I was too scared to move, yet I had come too far to turn back. I scanned the room for boys that I had seen at the river. I waited until they stood and started down the aisle, and then I fell in behind them like a duck that belongs to the same flock. I kept my eyes peeled to the floor, never once looking up. The legs of the table came into sight and I raised my head and stared into the eyes of the woman at the table.
“This boy is not in my class,” she said, in a voice that seemed to shake the walls of the church.
“Nor mine either,” another woman answered from the first bench.
“Nor mine,” another voice said.
“He doesn’t belong here at all.”
Tears filled my eyes, and for a minute I was too scared to move. People were staring at me and many of them shaking their heads. I knew now that all I wanted was to make it back to the rivers. This red brick church was not for me. I realized that I had been planning on getting something that did not belong to me. I turned and ran as fast as I could, down the steps of the church, and I didn’t stop even at the small creek. I splashed in and the water circled my knees, and on the other side I fell to the sand and buried my head in my arms and cried. A short time ago, the sack of candy had meant almost as much to me as the two rivers. Now it meant nothing. Even if I had gotten it, I couldn’t have taken it home. They would have thought that I had stolen it – or begged it, which would have been worse.
I stayed on the banks of the river below the house until the shadows crossed the water. Tears had frozen on my face and where I had waded the creek my legs were so cold they were numb. Then I heard footsteps on the frozen grass. And when I looked up Mom was standing over me. She did not quarrel because I had stayed away from home so long without her knowing where I was. She knelt beside me and I felt her arms around my shoulders.
“Hush now,” she said. “Time comes that even a man has to tell what’s wrong. Tell me.”
And stuttering worse than a jay bird, I told her how I had wanted to steal the sack of candy, expecting her to break a willow switch at any moment.
But there were tears in her eyes, too. And she held me close.
“Maybe it is better for our kind to give our thanks under the willows here. Prayers have far enough to climb without being hemmed in by the walls and the roof of an old building.”
“But,” I said, “maybe God don’t know that I’m down here. He didn’t see me in the church, and I didn’t see Him.”
“Hush now with foolish talk,” Mom said. “If He can see a little bird like a sparrow, you know that He can see a big boy like you.”
Mom pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wet it over her tongue and wiped my face and the wind dried it.
And that evening Mom left the house and did not come back until after dark. I heard her come in during the night and pull the covers over us as she always did. But she stayed by our bed longer than usual this time. And the next morning when I woke I felt something hard under my pillow and when I reached down to find out what it was, I pulled out a small sack. And inside the sack was hard rock candy.
I jumped from the bed and ran into the room where Mom and Dad slept. “Look, Mom!” I yelled. “Look what God has given us!”
“Pon my word,” Mom said, “who’d have thought a prayer could have traveled that fast? Now, if you want to make the Lord happy, you’ll share with the rest of the family.”
As I walked out of the room, I wondered why my brothers and sisters didn’t ask the Lord for a sack of candy themselves. I sneaked a handful out of the sack and stuck it into my pocket, so that they wouldn’t know how much the Lord had given me. I divided the rest with them and then I ran to the river bank to eat what was in my pocket.
When I reached the bank, I was so happy that I wanted to run and shout to both rivers. I looked into the clouds and thought of my prayer scaling the blue walls faster than a stream of smoke. But as I ran through the trees, I slipped over a stump and fell to the earth. The hard rock candy fell out of my pocket and rolled over the sand, picking up sand like a snowball scooping up snow. One by one the pieces rolled down the steep bank and into the river. The Lord had seen me sneak the candy into my pocket back at the house.
Mom was right. He didn’t have any trouble at all seeing me here on earth.
This story is from “Appalachian Christmas Stories,” first published by the Jesse Stuart Foundation in 1997. The book can be purchased on this website, by emailing sales@jsfbooks.com, or by calling 606-326-1667.
Best wishes for a happy and healthy holiday season from your friends at the Jesse Stuart Foundation.
By James M. Gifford
JSF CEO & Senior Editor
