Marion Harland's Autobiography: The Story of a Long LifeHarland, Marion
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Marion Harland's Autobiography: The Story of a Long Life
Harland, Marion
Authors, American -- 19th century -- Biography; Harland, Marion, 1830-1922
The salutation was a grievous puzzle and positive annoyance to our
New-England grandmother, the first Christmas she passed with us. By the
time she was ready for breakfast she had emptied her pocket of loose
coins, and bestowed small articles of dress and ornament upon three or
four of the (to her apprehension) importunate claimants. When she made
known the grievance—which she did in her usual imperious fashion—my
father shouted with laughter. With difficulty he drilled into her mind
that the greeting was not a petition, still less a demand. From that
day he forbade any of us to say “Christmas gift!” to “Old Mistis,” as
the servants called her. We children wished her, “A merry Christmas.”
The servants never learned the unaccustomed form. The old lady did
not enter into the real significance of the words that offended her.
Nor, for that matter, did one out of a hundred of those who had used
it all their lives, as each Christmas rolled around. It never dawned
upon me until I heard how Russian peasants and Russian nobility alike
greet every one they meet on Easter morning with—“The Lord is risen,”
receiving the answer, “He is risen indeed!” The exultant cry of
“Christmas gift!” was a proclamation of the best thing that ever came
into the world. The exchange of holiday offerings at the festal season
commemorates the same. All over Christendom it is an act of grateful,
if too often blind, obedience to the command—“Freely ye have received,
freely give.”
There were twelve servants in our family—eight adults and four
children. Not one was overlooked in the distribution of presents
that followed breakfast and family prayers. The servants were called
in to morning and evening prayers as regularly as the white members
were assembled for the service. The custom was universal in town and
country, and was, without doubt, borrowed from English country life—the
model for Virginian descendants. Men and women took time to pray,
and made haste to do nothing. We prate long and loudly now of deep
breathing. We _practised_ it in that earlier generation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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