“CHRISTMAS”
The very name of the chapter illicited gasps of delight from my 1st-3rd graders as I
read Little House in the Big Woods aloud to them this fall. In all my decades of reading
and loving Laura, this was the first time I read it to a class, and it refueled my
admiration for the series and for her writing. As a few of you have mentioned, Pa’s
stories and the “how to” aspects have always left me a little dry, and when I read it to
my daughters they too began to lose focus during those sections. But in reading it to
my class I saw the genius of including them, as different children connected to different
aspects of the book. I saw rapt attention from the 8 year-old soccer star when Pa
prepared his bullets. I heard laughter from the 7 year-old who struggles to pay attention
when Grandpa flew down the hill with the pig. I saw an intense gaze of worry from the
6 year-old nature-lover when Pa was running from the owl. When I took an informal
straw poll, this chapter alone gathered 5 different “favorite parts” from the 8 children I
asked!

The first of many wonderful Christmas stories Laura shared with us begins with a
wintry setting of the scene—snow drifts as high as Laura’s head, icicles as big as her
arm, and frost on Pa’s beard. She jumps right into one of those how-tos as Pa carves
the bracket for Ma. We are then treated to the first detailed description of the China
Shepherdess (or china woman, as she’s referred to here.) Can you imagine how
precious and delicate she must have appeared in the log cabin?
We are then launched into food preparation. I thought about the intense work of Ma’s
busy, warm, good-smelling kitchen as I prepared our Christmas, even if vinegar pie
wasn’t on my menu. I’m curious about where she kept the food after she made it in
that little cabin. Maybe they had an outdoor box? Doing all of that work on a wood
cookstove with littles underfoot is something at which I will never cease to wonder. Our
foremothers were incredible.

We then meet cousins! Hooray! Picturing 7 children, 4 adults, and Jack in that tiny
cabin, it’s no wonder Ma let Laura join the big kids outside to make pictures in the
snow. After a day outside they get ready for bed—I love how the babies are barely
mentioned in this chapter, not even including them in the rundown of where everyone
slept, although I assume it was with their parents. Before the children fall asleep we’re
treated to an unrelated but exciting story about Uncle Peter and Aunt Eliza’s dog
protecting her from a panther. “Laura was wide awake at once. She always liked to
hear about dogs.” This is such a sweet quote, and rings true for the children at my
school! This panther story comes after we’ve already heard The Story of Grandpa and
the Panther and further solidifies the idea that the Big Woods was a wild, scary place to
live. Which makes the subsequent fiddle serenade to help the children sleep that much
more comforting and cozy.

They then wake up on Christmas morning with presents in their stockings. Of course,
living in 20th/21st century America, the gifts they receive are awfully humbling. “Laura
had a rag doll.” Has a homemade doll ever been more loved or more beautifully
described? Charlotte also appears in future books, reminding us that childhood
mementos never completely lose their meaning, in fact, I was thrilled to get one of my
own on a trip to DeSmet in the 1980’s, and lovingly her put her under the tree for my
daughter a few years ago.

Breakfast of pancake men and a big Christmas dinner follow, with the foreign-to-
modern-children concept of children being seen but not heard. I remember being so
offended by that idea as a child! All too soon everyone needs to go home. My students
laughed about the baked potatoes to keep them warm in the sleigh, and had many
questions about the lack of Christmas tree.

Another thing I realized in this rereading of book is how much Laura influenced my
appreciation of hygge. I just love being cozy during the winter here in the upper
midwest, and I now see that came from spending my childhood ensconced in Laura’s
world. Next time my family laughs at me for lighting another candle or layering another
blanket, I’ll happily think of her, and revel in it.