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Blogs by Hank J. LeGrand
Santa's Merry, Mary Christmas 2/20/2013 3:46:43 PM
Excerpt: Santa's Merry, Mary Christmas.
Excerpt
Santa’s story takes place far beyond the deep north woods, up where a man by the name of Nick built his home. It was not your ordinary house, the size alone made it like no other. It was enormously large, and magical things were said to have happened there… Nick ended up there one night shortly after a severe snowstorm hit the mountain-pass he and his folks were traveling on. It all started when Nick, along with his ma and pa, joined a wagon train which was going to take them up over the mountains, and to a new beginning on the other side. The Government was promoting free land for the taking, and Nick’s folks were going to get their share.
The wagon train would be pulling out in the morning, so there was no time to waste. Anyone wanting to make the journey would meet at a large oak tree at the bottom of the mountain pass.
"Well, we had better get some sleep, morning comes early. In the morning they loaded the wagon and start up the trail. After arriving at the old oak tree, and the wagon train, everyone took a little time to get acquainted. The guide briefed them about the trail, along with some of the dangers they might encounter along the way. After a day’s ride the horses were tired, and so were the travelers…
"Circle the wagons," shouted the guide, waving his arm in a circle "We'll make camp here for the night." The feed bags for the horses were put on first thing, because without horses there would be no crossing the mountain. Once the horses were attended to a large campfire was lit.
“Pa isn't this exciting?” said Nick with widened eyes.
“It certainly is, son. Searching for new land, along with meeting new people makes for a very exciting time.”
When supper finished everyone gathered at the campfire. It was a very tiring day, so before long people started heading for their wagons to get some sleep. At the crack of dawn the guide had the campfire re-fueled with wood, and the fresh aroma of beacon sizzling smelled awfully good in the chilled morning air. Everyone knew it wouldn't be long before old man winter was knocking at the door. A slight frost lay on the ground, and you could see the breath from the horses’ nostrils streaming out. The scout stressed the urgency to get an early start up the pass because they had to get over the mountain before the big snows fell, which would block the trail, possibly stranding them up there.
The scout shouted to break camp. It took about a half-hour or so to get reloaded, and the wagon train started up the pass. But the farther they went, the harder it snowed. The guide recommended they turn the wagon train around--due to the worsening of the snow storm--but the peoples' determination to get their new land convinced him to push on.
They battled the storm two-thirds of the way up the pass, but the snow was relentless, it never let up, and with every few wagon lengths they gained, several more inches of snow fell--to slow their travel even more. This was the storm the guide wanted to beat across the mountain pass, only now the storm had beaten them. The wagon train was stranded; bogged down. They could not continue on any further with the wagons, so they'd have to abandon them in place. They would have to use the horses to pull themselves, and some of their equipment up the mountain--if they were going to survive the blizzard. The guide told everyone to unhook their horses from the wagons, and for them to take only what they needed to survive.
