Maeburl Tincher
Christmas in the Smoky Mountains is a singularly unique event within the continental United States.
The Smokies themselves generate an ancient atmosphere of hearth and home.
The people of these mountains reflect the depth of that sentiment in their ages-old seasonal traditions.
Growing up, I remember how smoke from fireplaces and wood-burning cook stoves filled the coves and the hollers with the aromas of the holidays. Many houses emitted the scents of baked goods and Christmas fares, including dried apple stack cakes, bacon, ham, chocolate pies and popcorn – which was used to adorn the Christmas trees.
Mama would put extra special effort into decorating our home and the large tree, which my brothers would bring in from the nearby forest. We would hang our long stockings behind the wood stove for Santa to fill with Christmas goodies that always included oranges, apples, hard candies, gloves and small gifts.
Mama would decorate the tree with beautiful green, gold, red and silver ornaments, fluffy roping and shiny tinsel.
Then she would crisscross the ceiling with garlands and hang a large foldout bell from the center.
Daddy would bring 50 pound bags of walnuts, pecans, oranges and apples to place around the tree in the living room. It was a special time for the children, because we could eat as much as we wanted without having to count out the servings.
If we were fortunate enough to get a good snow, we would convert ladderback chairs into fast-running sleds that would carry us merrily down the steep mountain slopes.
Making snow cream was another popular winter activity. We had plenty of fresh cream, clean snow and Watkins vanilla flavoring.
If you told us there was something better, we wouldn’t have believed you.
Attending church socials and plays were always on the agenda.
Sometimes Santa’s entrance was so dramatic and rambunctious that while jumping from behind the curtains and landing in front of the unsuspecting children, some of them had been known to unintentionally blaspheme.
Above all – no matter the beauty, abundance or fun of the season – the true meaning of Christmas was never lost on us.
Christ was the source of all things good and we knew we owed him our eternal gratitude. While I have seen an angel with my own eyes, I cannot imagine what the shepherds witnessed the night the sky was filled with the heavenly host, singing “glory to God in the highest and on earth peace and good will toward man.”
May Christ be yours today and throughout the New Year.
Maeburl Tincher writes a bi-weekly column for The Graham Star. She is a native of the Jack Branch community.