This book..... Mom gave us kids a copy of this book when we were teenagers. Or bought it for the family. Or whatever. But somehow, we had a copy of this book in our family and we would each read it, but not out loud and not in front of our siblings because we would all get a little teary about it.
Love these illustrations!
This is a nostalgic book, so we start with the man being middle aged, waking up early on Christmas morning thinking of being a teenager on the farm.
The milkings he and his dad would get up early to do.
I so remember those yawning mornings. When you wished with all your heart that your sibling would actually be the one that had to go out to the barn that morning because bed was just so cozy and warm and.....
This year, as Christmas approaches, this farm boy doesn't quite now what to do. He overhead his father talking to his mother about how he hates to wake up his teenage son so early every morning when he knows how much sleep he needs.
And though it has never been said, the boy knows this means his father loves him. Now that he knows his father loves him, he wants to give him an appropriately loving Christmas present. But all his money had been spent on little gifts and even if it hadn't, there wasn't really enough to buy an amazing gift.
The night before Christmas, he finally has an idea--go out to the barn super early and get the milking done before his dad goes out.
For some reason, it just hits me every time I read this book. I get all teary eyed.
Part of the appeal of this book is simply shared experiences--that long, dark, cold walk to the barn in the early mornings. And being a farm kid, you didn't go out and get another job that earned you money, so you never really had a lot of money to buy gifts with. And maybe it wasn't something you talked about a lot, but working together on a farm makes you pretty close to your family and makes you love them rather fiercely. But somehow I would have rather died than admit that as a teen. And you want to do something for them, but not sure what.
(Lest my siblings see this and tell me I am re-imagining life, I often imagined grand, loving gestures. I just rarely did them. It isn't my fault that as I imagined doing something amazing they would come along and be jerks and banish all noble intentions from my heart.)
There is a calm in a winter barn that I have never found anywhere else. The quiet, sleeping cows, the smell of hay, the warmth of bovine bodies, you all alone with all these creatures that trust you for every thing they need.
(There were some times I got out there before anyone else when I felt like that.)
As he does the milking, he imagines how his father will react, the look on his father's face. And somehow, milking doesn't take that long this time.
He sneaks back into bed just before his dad comes in to wake him. And he waits as his dad goes out to the barn, then comes right back in.
And gives his son a hug.
(I might be crying again even writing about it)
And then, for the first time ever, the farmers is in the room with the whole family as the little kids come down and see the tree and gifts for the first time.
Pearl Buck liked to play on people heartstrings and be a little melodramatic, but while this book makes me teary eyed every time I read it, it feels real to me. Because I can imagine being that kid. And I can imagine feeling just like him.
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