Dancing In a Jar by Poynter Adele

you can’t stay introspective for long in this little town. Just as your mind wanders and you are miles away, it’s quite possible to run into a cow or a chicken, which brings you back to reality quickly. I think I told you there are no real roads in town, just paths that wind from house to house. They’re always filled with animals, and the cows in particular will accompany you right into your house unless you chase them. The animals here run wild all year and sometimes wander miles away. You don’t see them until the cold weather sets in and they return home to the right places. The oxen then get hitched up to homemade sleds to haul in the wood when the snow gets deep. Everything here feels part of a big story to me.
    We will miss you this Christmas but I am working hard not to let that ruin my first Christmas with Don. We will find all the happiness we can and hope we don’t get beach rocks in our stockings.
    Love,
Urla
    P.S. Give big hugs to Sturdy for me.
    P.P.S. I forgot to tell you how the whole town’s prayers came true. Remember I told you about the men put in jail for smuggling during the Prohibition? Well, the Which One arrived in the harbor a couple of days ago to great fanfare! The men had spent twelve days in jail before a well-known mobster named Vannie Higgins managed to get them free. That will tell you who is benefiting from the Prohibition!! Probably just as well that is now over. Mr. Louis had a joyful reunion with his children and brought back with him a barrel of apples and a radio, the second one in town. The first one belongs to the Catholic priest!
    24 Wayne Pl.
Nutley, New Jersey
    December 23, 1933
    Dear Donald and Urla,
    We received your Christmas letter yesterday although there was no card attached, so I don’t know if that will come later or got lost in your local post office. I hope you two can get through Christmas without too many lonely moments.
    We have our turkey and all the trimmings set for dinner here with Howard and Edith, Aunt Meta, Uncle George, and Kenneth. I am sure we will see the Crammonds at church on Christmas morning. Then, on the 27th, we will all head into Radio City for the Rockette show.
    I hope your trip to the French islands was successful and we look forward to the perfume and cigars. That may be a perfect way to send the furs you promised when you left. I hear there are plenty of beaver and mink pelts about the place. Don’t trouble yourself though, my darling.
    We sent your card early and took your advice on not sending presents. We don’t want the government to take any more of our money with those crazy tariff charges.
    Love to you both,
Mom

1934
    St. Lawrence, Newfoundland
    January 7, 1934
    Happy New Year, Mother and Dad,
    I can hardly believe we are into 1934 as we finish up the twelve days of Christmas in our little town. We were hardly expecting this kind of celebration in a place that is struggling so much. But a celebration it has been.
    On Christmas Eve, we joined Mr. and Mrs. Giovannini and the children at mass at the Catholic Church. Everyone walked, greeting others as we went around the harbor. Drawn by the lights of the church, eventually we could hear vespers being sung. The entire town attended this service as the priest went by boat the next morning to tend to other communities. The mass was sung in Latin (Don said it was all Greek to him) and the whole experience was highly ceremonial.
    At home that night we put up the tree after the children went to bed and woke in the morning to their squeals and the beautiful smell of balsam fir. Don surprised me with a box of French candy and produced a bottle of champagne just before dinner. I have no idea how Mrs. G managed such a grand dinner for all of us, but we ate like kings with two large chickens, salty navel beef, roast potatoes, pickled beets and cabbage. It was all topped off with a sherry trifle. How wonderful to share that day with this special family. I gave Don one sock that I had managed to