Holly Reading was born on Christmas eve of 1914. Her father served in WWI and was in Belgium at the time of the 1914 Christmas Eve one day truce. On November 11, 1918, after more than four years of terrible fighting and the loss of millions of lives, the guns on the western front fell silent. The reaction of the world was that of relief, celebration, and a profound sense of loss.
Holly’s father was one of the soldiers who didn’t come home. He never got the chance to hold his baby daughter.
Holly and her mother were living with her father’s parents when the war ended. Mr. and Mrs. Reading built the house in Pleasant Run in 1920. Aunt Marti eventually bought it in 1963. It had been vacant for 20 years.
The house in Pleasant Run
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Holly was six when her grandparents, she and her mother moved into the newly built house. The year was 1920.
Mary Francis with her Grandma and Grandpa Sanderson. The relationships between grandparents and grandkids can be so special.
“Holly, please get down out of that tree. You still have your Sunday dress on. Nana has lunch ready and you must wash up and change quickly.”
“Momma, I kept my dress on because it’s the same color as the tree leaves and I can hide here where that man can’t see me.”
“Sweet Holly. my child. Your imagination goes wild sometimes. Pretending can often times create unbelievable stories.”
“It’s not a story,” Holly insisted as she climbed down from the tree. “A man with a black hat on has walked down this street three times. Well, maybe only two. He wants to talk to you. He asked if you were home and I said you were working at the hospital. I told him my Grandpa and Nana were here, but he said he had to talk to you. I told him we didn’t talk to strangers.” He laughed, Momma, and said he would be back when you were home. He said he knew my daddy.”
“Sweetheart, if this is the truth, you are doing the right thing by telling him you aren’t allowed to talk to strangers. Next time, tell the man to knock on the door and talk to me or your grandparents. That’s what someone who knew your father would most likely do, anyway.”
Two days later, when Holly went out to play, she was careful to choose clothes that would match the tree.
*************
I couldn’t wait for all of my cousins to leave so that I could go back up to the attic and look at the remainder of the contents inside the old trunk and whatever was inside the lockbox that the attorney had given me the key to. Two days ago I had been busy minding my own business and now I was suddenly the owner of a monstrosity of a house and embroiled in a mystery…and I had a dog. Mr. B followed me everywhere I went.
When I opened the strong box, there was a note on top that said, “Dee, Holly was born 9 years before me. That has nothing to do with anything, but I need to know where she went. I need to know she and her mother’s story had a happy ending. At the bottom of this box, you will find a note written in a child’s handwriting. It was written with a crayon, and it took me a while to decipher what I believe it says. Holly wrote, “The man talked to Momma. She cried happy tears. I lived here, but now I’m going away.” It’s dated 12/15/1923
I thought this would be a good time to write an update on a blog I posted a couple of weeks ago. My mental health has been stable, and I am more grateful than I can say. To anyone out there who suffers from depression, anxiety, or bipolar disorder, please remember there are qualified people out there who can help. I sought help, and I am sure glad I did. I learned a valuable lesson. I never want to feel that way again, so the most important thing to remember is self-care in the form of rest, healthy food (as much as practical), and exercise. If I am doing all of those things plus saying my prayers and still dread the day before me, then I will seek help. A check-up from the neck up can be a good thing. The mind is fragile.
Kip is doing great 3 weeks out from his back surgery! He’s on track to begin traveling on the 1st of August. He was released from Home Health last week but continues to do his exercises.
Yesterday, I was trying to tighten up our Jeep’s seat covers, and an elastic strap got away from me and gave me quite the shiner. I had contacts in, but I must have blinked just as the strap hit. After yelling,” I think I’m blind!!” I settled down and realized it only hurts when I laugh, which is when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
Love the eyeliner, but the other eye doesn’t match.
Nellie and Rylie must find life with us is pretty exciting. They’ve had a few chances to run away, but decided better of it and came back. I’ll sure be happy when Kip will be able to help out more with the walking chore. They get 4 long walks a day. (The joy of RV living with no fenced yard.) We try to take them to a pasture in the middle of downtown Ben Wheeler for a leashless run every day.
Well, this is sounding like a Christmas letter. As Mom used to say, “Enough about me, how did you like my last movie!”
We put up a flag yesterday. I got it for Kip for his August birthday and finally got a holder.
“Hi Tara, I was exploring the house and didn’t hear the doorbell at first. I hope you and this sweet looking puppy dog didn’t wait too long.” Tara had just informed me that Mr. Bairnsfather had wanted to come home for tea. “Is he Aunt Marti’s dog?” I asked.
“He sure is,” Tara informed me as they walked through the door. “We call him Mr. B for short. Bairnsfather is a mouthful. I have no idea where Aunt Marti came up with that name in the first place. I took him to my house when she became ill, but he has become unhappy and barely eats. I thought it might help him to be back in his home for a few hours.”
Mr. Bairnsfather
“Poor baby,” I said. “Let’s go into the parlor and wait there until everyone gets here. I was just reading an article I found in an old trunk in the attic. Mr. Bairnsfather was a British soldier in WWI. He took part in the Christmas Eve truce of 1914. Do you know who Bernard was or is? His name was on the envelope containing the information.
Tara thought for a moment before shaking her head. “No, I don’t recall Aunt Marti ever mentioning anyone named Bernard. It is interesting to know who Mr. B was named for, though. I thought Bairnsfather was a name she made up.
Within 30 minutes all 5 cousins were there along with the attorney, Mr. Danes, who arrived last. Tara’s husband, Tom was there as well. He had picked cousin Drew up at the airport. Tonja and Grayson, who lived in Pleasant Run had driven over together. Everyone declined tea or coffee, so once we had visited a short while, Mr. Danes handed each of us a packet that contained a letter from Aunt Marti and a copy of her will. The attorney instructed each of us to first read our personal letters, and then he would read the will to all of us.
Dearest Dee,
Thank you for making the long trip to be here. I have a lot to ask of you.
I have left you my home, which, as you already know, is over 100 years old. It was one of the first houses to be constructed in Pleasant Run. I purchased it when I turned 30, and it became clear to me that I would never marry.
As I write this letter, I am 90 years old. If you are reading it, it means I have passed on without solving the mystery.
I don’t know what happened to the family who lived here. The house had been vacant for 20 years before I purchased it.
I found several things in the attic that caused me to be extremely curious, even alarmed. The remarkable thing is that no one living in Pleasant Run at the time I bought and restored the house knew much about the former inhabitants.
I know I won’t be able to rest in this life or the next until the mystery is solved. Please find out what happened to Holly. She was born on Christmas Eve, 1914. Her father was fighting in Belgium.
You will find all the information I have been able to accumulate in the chest in the attic. My attorney will give you the key to the strong box inside.
I know you are a retired sleuth. Maybe you will decide to make this house and Pleasant Run your home…once you have solved the mystery…
I know the Little Murdo Girl and her brother Billy, really love their Mom. Billy took her to the races for Mother’s Day, but really, what could be better than a heartfelt poem from your daughter?
Hi Mom, I called to…Mary is that you?
Yes Mom, I want to…I called Ella today. I had some “news” to tell. To get a word in edgewise, I really had to yell!
Well, Mom how long…Oh, we talked an hour, and it was on my dime. If she wants to talk again, she’ll have to call next time.
So, Mom…I’d tell you what she said, but it was blah, blah, blah. If you really want the truth, I forgot it, ha, ha, ha.
I only have a minute Mo…I went shopping with my coupons. I thought I’d save a ton. They told me they were all expired, no more two for one. Say, last time I saw you, I was constipated. Did I tell you aloe vera juice is very overrated? I use Metamucil now, two teaspoons to a cup. You should try it dear, you really sound bound up.
I have a question Mo…I have a tickle in my throat. I’m sure that I’ll start coughin. It’s been fun catching up. You should call more often.
I’ve been trying to reach you Mom, but it’s been really hard….
Oh never mind, this Mother’s Day, I’ll just send a card.
I heard her hang the phone up. She was in a tizzy.
I knew, if I called back again, the line would still be busy.
She’d be calling sister Ella, so they can talk in rhymes.
I know for sure that every day, they talk at least 3 times.
Tea time is a refreshing part of my day. A fresh hot cup of tea can put zip in your sip and giddy up in your cup. Adding sugar, sweetener, milk or half and half makes it even better. You will be astounded by how to make a lovely start to your day with wet, hot, yummy tea. Cheerio and pip pip.
Oops, lots of tea bags spilled out. At least I have extras.
Teabags are not always cooperative.
Remember to recycle, reuse and compost. I can send you a bunch of used teabags if you want.
It was all a little overwhelming. Aunt Marti had come to me in some sort of dream and informed me that at 3:00 o’clock that afternoon, I would be given a letter explaining why she was leaving her house in Pleasant Run to me.
It was only noon. I had 3 hours before the other cousins would arrive for the reading of the will. It seemed a little strange that all of this was happening so quickly. Aunt Marti had only passed away the evening before and there had been no discussion about anything. I was guessing that the attorney arranging the meeting would also be informing us of Aunt Marti’s wishes regarding her funeral.
Since I had plenty of time before everyone arrived, I wanted to do a little more exploring. I decided to start at the top of the house with the attic. I had remembered seeing what looked like a drop-down ladder in the hallway. I pulled the cord and was excited to see a substantial ladder unfold. Halfway up, I reached the cord to the light and continued to the top. What I saw was typical attic decor. a discarded table and chair set lined one wall and some dressmaker paraphernalia was on another.
In one corner, there was an interesting looking chest. I was excited to find it wasn’t locked. Inside, there were several boxes and a long narrow tin box that had a padlock on it. I opened the largest cardboard box and pulled out a man’s army tunic and trousers. It looked to be from the WWI era. Possibly an English uniform.
There was a manila envelope under the uniform with the words, “From Bernard.” scribbled on the outside. Inside, I found several typewritten pages…
On 12/24, 1914, in the dank, muddy trenches on the Western Front of the first world war, a remarkable thing happened.
It came to be called the Christmas truce. And it remains one of the most storied and strangest moments of the Great War—or of any war in history.
British machine gunner Bruce Bairnsfather, later a prominent cartoonist, wrote about it in his memoirs. Like most of his fellow infantrymen of the 1st Battalion of the Royal Warwickshire Regiment, he was spending the holiday eve shivering in the muck, trying to keep warm. He had spent a good part of the past few months fighting the Germans. And now, in a part of Belgium called Bois de Ploegsteert, he was crouched in a trench that stretched just three feet deep by three feet wide, his days and nights marked by an endless cycle of sleeplessness and fear, stale biscuits and cigarettes too wet to light.
“Here I was, in this horrible clay cavity,” Bairnsfather wrote, “…miles and miles from home. Cold, wet through and covered with mud.” There didn’t “seem the slightest chance of leaving—except in an ambulance.”
At about 10 p.m., Bairnsfather noticed a noise. “I listened,” he recalled. “Away across the field, among the dark shadows beyond, I could hear the murmur of voices.” He turned to a fellow soldier in his trench and said, “Do you hear the Boches [Germans] kicking up that racket over there?”
“Yes,” came the reply. “They’ve been at it some time!”
The Germans were singing carols, as it was Christmas Eve. In the darkness, some of the British soldiers began to sing back. “Suddenly,” Bairnsfather recalled, “we heard a confused shouting from the other side. We all stopped to listen. The shout came again.” The voice was from an enemy soldier, speaking in English with a strong German accent. He was saying, “Come over here.”
One of the British sergeants answered: “You come half-way. I come half-way.”
What happened next would, in the years to come, stun the world and make history. Enemy soldiers began to climb nervously out of their trenches, and to meet in the barbed-wire-filled “No Man’s Land” that separated the armies. Normally, the British and Germans communicated across No Man’s Land with streaking bullets, with only occasional gentlemanly allowances to collect the dead. But now, there were handshakes and words of kindness. The soldiers traded songs, tobacco and wine, joining in a spontaneous holiday party in the cold night.
Bairnsfather could not believe his eyes. “Here they were—the actual, practical soldiers of the German army. There was not an atom of hate on either side.”
And it wasn’t confined to that one battlefield. Starting on Christmas Eve, small pockets of French, German, Belgian and British troops held impromptu cease-fires across the Western Front, with reports of some on the Eastern Front as well. Some accounts suggest a few of these unofficial truces remained in effect for days.
By the time winter approached in 1914, and the chill set in, the Western Front stretched hundreds of miles. Countless soldiers were living in misery in the trenches on the fronts, while tens of thousands had already died.
Then Christmas came.
Descriptions of the Christmas Truce appear in numerous diaries and letters of the time. One British soldier, a rifleman named J. Reading, wrote a letter home to his wife describing his holiday experience in 1914: “My company happened to be in the firing line on Christmas eve, and it was my turn…to go into a ruined house and remain there until 6:30 on Christmas morning. During the early part of the morning the Germans started singing and shouting, all in good English. They shouted out: ‘Are you the Rifle Brigade; have you a spare bottle; if so we will come half way and you come the other half.’”
“Later on in the day they came towards us,” Reading described. “And our chaps went out to meet them…I shook hands with some of them, and they gave us cigarettes and cigars. We did not fire that day, and everything was so quiet it seemed like a dream.”
Another British soldier, named John Ferguson, recalled it this way: “Here we were laughing and chatting to men whom only a few hours before we were trying to kill!”
Other diaries and letters describe German soldiers using candles to light Christmas trees around their trenches. One German infantryman described how a British soldier set up a makeshift barbershop, charging Germans a few cigarettes each for a haircut. Other accounts describe vivid scenes of men helping enemy soldiers collect their dead, of which there was plenty.
Just how many soldiers participated in these informal holiday gatherings has been debated; there is no way to know for sure since the ceasefires were small-scale, haphazard and entirely unauthorized. A Time magazine story on the 100 anniversary claimed that as many as 100,000 people took part.
The sound of the doorbell brought me back to the present. I rushed down the ladder and to the front door. When I open it, I saw Tara standing there. She was holding a leash. At the end of the Leash was a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.
“Mr. Bairnsfather wanted to come home for tea.” Tara said.
I had just asked Aunt Marti if there was a reason, other than the 10 year age difference, that she and my mother had not been close.
“We will talk about all of that in good time,” Aunt Marti said. “But right now, I must tell you a few things concerning what will be taking place here this afternoon. My hope is that all of my nieces and nephews will be present at the meeting that Tara has been good enough to arrange. She was given some directions from my attorney. You will all be given a letter from me and you will be reading my will.”
“According to Tara, all of the cousins will be meeting here at 3:00 pm,” I offered.
“Perfect,” Aunt Marti said with a dramatic flash of her eyes. I had seen that same expression many times on my mother’s face. As if reading my mind, Aunt Marti continued. “Your mother was different from the rest of us and sometimes the things she said and did didn’t set well with me. As the eldest of 4 children, I always felt as though the other girls’ behavior was more or less my responsibility.”
“Speaking from my own experience of living with Mom, I said. “I can understand your comment. Mom’s behavior sometimes pushed the envelope.” (I was secretly amused by my mother’s outlandish ways, but I didn’t share that with my aunt.)
“I must leave you now,” Aunt Marti said as she rose from the chair and picked up the tray with the tea and muffins. “But before I go, I need to tell you that I left you this property. I do hope you will give staying here in Pleasant Run a lot of thought before you get the news formerly at the meeting today. This house has a story to tell, and I believe it will tell you all of its secrets.”
“I don’t know what to say, Aunt Marti. Why would you give me your house?” I was surprised, to say the least.
“It’s all in the letter,” she answered. “And you can say goodbye.”
I was talking with a friend recently about how our children can be so different. She has two daughters. The oldest turned out to be a true joy. So the oldest married well and has several homes plus comes to help her Mother often. The other adult child is the opposite and has a drinking problem plus the older sister supports her. My friend thought maybe without realizing it, she gave the oldest one more attention and the second one was just coming along so closely in age that it wasn’t a big deal. Another baby? We’ve done this before.
I asked how she was so fortunate to have her oldest daughter be so kind, helpful and financially well off (her husband is a successful dentist). She said, “Well, I had the best mother, as an example. Plus, I was given a good education.” Coincidentally she’s the youngest of two daughters also but she turned out to be a responsible and caring person. I then mentioned that my mother also was the best and influenced me a great deal. I agreed that having a caring supportive mother guide you through your early years is important.
Mothers show us the way through examples, talking to us, cooking certain foods, sharing their stories, interacting with relatives, and a myriad of other ways. Which brings us to Mothers Day. My kids ask what I want for this special holiday. I’m of the belief that every day is Mothers Day. It should be. I’ve been lucky all through life, knowing fantastic grandmothers, aunts, cousins and friends who are mothers and set good examples for me.
Mother’s Day! What should we do? But then I am torn between thinking should I ask to be taken out for lunch or dinner or should we just eat at home, barbecue or fix a fancy meal? Gifts? Please, don’t spend your hard earned money on gifts. I don’t need anything. (Hmm, a new Lexus sounds perfect!)
Maybe you’re feeling the same. Mother’s Day can be a bit stressful and frenetic with your kids being extra nice because it’s required on Mother’s Day. I’m just going to sit back and enjoy the day. All 3 of my adult kids can’t be here, they live far away, but one of our sons will drive here and spend the weekend. The other two will call. So just having them give me some of their time is the best gift. We gave them a gift also by showing them the way. Sure, we weren’t perfect moms, but we tried and learned as we went through motherhood. It’s not just one day out of the year. Your job as a mother never ends. Have a wonderful Mom’s Day and even if you’re not a Mom, remember yours.
My Mom is the tallest one with her 3 sisters on the farm. Don’t know gal in ruffle bonnet.
Me with grandson and Ninny dog.
My Mom with me taken above SANDERSONS Store in Murdo.
MG: Hi Lav! Are you all ready to fly across the pond to attend King Charles the III’s coronation?
LAV: I’m really nervous (Lav will write her own story outlining all the trouble she is having preparing for the biggest event of her life, so far.)
MG: Oh pshaw, Lav. We’ve been across the pond a million times. That’s why Windy and Airy are still on the payroll. We’ve been waiting our whole lives for this. I’m going to hang up right now and call them to make sure they remembered to gas up the plane. Last time we flew across the pond, we had to land on a ship because we ran out of gas? That admiral guy was kind of upset when we came out of nowhere. You’d think he’d never seen a nose-dive before.
What time does the invitation say we have to be there?
Windy Berg and Airy Heart landed us safely on the unsuspecting ship
LAV: What invitation? I thought you had the invitation.
Been checking my mailbox
No invitations in here!
LAV: I think the Coronation was yesterday but I was eating tacos at a Cinco de Mayo celebration. I’m not even ready to go to England! What the Royal heck would I wear? Don’t you have to dress up in robes and sashes and wear crowns, MG?
NINNY DOG: And aren’t those Royal Corgis pretty yappy and uppity?
Windy just called to tell us that Prince Harry wanted to hook a ride across the pond with us because our carbon footprint is so small. We hardly emit any carbon unless the airplane backfires…
You know it’s time to drop those pandemic pounds and start getting around without huffing and puffing. Start slowly by exercising a bit more and eating good stuff. Eat half if you can, of your normal portions. That way you won’t feel like you’re missing out on your favorite foods, yet you’ll be cutting down on calories. Portion sizes and calories go hand in hand and we often think we should eat like we’re still 25 but we do not need as much sustenance nor calories in our 40’s, 50’s and on and on in years. Lav recently consulted a nutritionist. They are professionals with great advice and meal plans. Choose one who will follow through and stick with you to monitor how you progress.
Lav was trying to lose weight on her own. Later, she found out that a nutrition expert is the best way. Let’s check in on her.
Monkeys eat bananas. Have you ever seen an overweight monkey?
It’s easier getting around when you carry less weight, but pink ones are quite stylish.
I’m going for a walk now. That’s another great way to stay healthy. If you can’t get outside, just do an indoor walk. Keep moving and grooving!
Those 70ish Girls 