"Mama, just look at Bandershanks! You ought'a get a switch to her! She's eating up every grain of this popcorn! Won't be enough left to go from one limb to another, much less all round the Christmas tree!" Mierd jerked the pan of popcorn out of my hands and held it up toward Mama. "Look, Mama!" "Mama, Mierd's telling you wrong! I just eat the ones that crack when I punch my needle in 'em!" Mama didn't even look around. She spread another dampened pillowcase on the ironing board and pressed her hot iron back and forth, back and forth, along the crocheted trimming. As soon as Mierd set the pan back on the floor between our feet, I reached for more corn. "Bandershanks, you're clumsy with your needle on purpose! See how long my string is? And look at yours! I bet you ain't got fourteen grains on it. Quit grabbing all the biggest grains!" "You're making me spill it, Mierd! "Girls! Girls! Christmas Eve's no time for sisters to be quarreling." Mama folded the pillowcase as fast as she could and gave it a final lick with the smoothing iron. She glanced down at Mierd and me and at the half-empty pan of corn. She couldn't see the sour face Mierd was making at me. "Now y'all make haste and finish stringing your popcorn. We've got to go on up to the church and help Aunt Vic. She's worked so hard getting up the program, the least the rest of us can do is have the church ready tonight." "Are we gonna just stay till the program?" "No, Mierd. The cows have got to be milked, and I'll need to fix supper for your grandma and grandpa. So we'll rush back home as soon as we get the cleaning and decorating done. Thank goodness I'm through with this eternal ironing one more time." Mierd hopped up off the floor and asked Mama where Wiley was. "I thought you knew he went with a bunch of boys to look for the tree—this morning." "No'm." "I wish I'd gone." "No, no, Bandershanks. Girls don't go tramping through the woods to cut down Christmas trees. The place for girls is in the house. Mierd, see if Grandpa Thad has finished hitching up the wagon for us." I grabbed myself a handful of corn and ran with Mierd. Lots of folks were going in and out of Papa's store as we passed there. Mama said they had waited till the eleventh hour to buy presents to put on the tree. We could see several people up at the church, too. Uncle Dan and Wallace Goode's papa were at the woodpile chopping kindling. Mrs. Goode and Mrs. Hansen were stooping down by the church doorsteps. At first I couldn't imagine what they were doing. Then, as we got closer, I saw that they had the wall lamps and tin reflectors lined up on the bottom steps and were cleaning globes, trimming wicks, and polishing the reflectors. Mama told Mierd that the Missionary Society had bought extra oil. "Y'all gonna light all sixteen lamps, Mama?" "Every one! After all, it's Christmas Eve!"