A KANSAS PRAIRIE CHRISTMAS by Marisa Masterson

A KANSAS PRAIRIE CHRISTMAS by Marisa Masterson


Imagine…You came along the Santa Fe trail to settle in this part of the Missouri territory. Few people have made their homes here, other than the Native Americans who were forced into the area from the Great Lakes region and the East. They live far from you, though, and aren’t a concern.

Image of Kansas in winter by Rob Wishusen

It’s the isolation worrying you this day, the 24^th of December. There is no church service to attend, no close neighbors to gather with for a small Christmas Eve service. Looking around you, the two small faces gazing at you cause you to shake off your gloom. You will make Christmas Eve special with the things you have around you.


This was the case for pioneers who lived a rough, work-centered life to maintain their existence in places like the Kansa prairie of the Missouri Territory. Holidays like Christmas were treasured. They paused in their daily struggle and celebrated with whatever and whoever they had close at hand. It might seem like a humble celebration to us today, but Christmas was not forgotten or ignored by these families.

Typically, the homes were small—dugouts or soddies. Wood was scarce in some areas of Kansas so families there rarely had Christmas trees. Still, they decorated with what was at hand. Gingerbread men and cookie dough ornaments would be made, even if there was no tree. Brown paper that had wrapped purchases made during the year might be brought out so that a paper chain could be made. If any product with foil lining its inside had been purchased during the year, that shiny paper would have been removed and saved for Christmas. Everything was used. Even the wishbones from chickens could be dried and decorated. (I grew up with many of these decorations still being used at Christmas on our farm.)

The land around the homesteaders provided part of the decorations. Dried plants that seemed festive took the place of evergreens and pine cones. Imagine the dried grasses and prickly brown cones of thistles in mason jars or along a small mantle. Perhaps the mother dried flowers in her root cellar, hanging them upside down. Now, she brings them out to add some muted color to the holiday.

Even dried grasses began a part of the Christmas decorations.

Other dried items would also come out at this time of year. Dried apples would be used to make a pie, perhaps, or just to chew on as a special treat. Dried vegetables like green beans would be eaten as well. Green beans were strung during the summer and hung above the cookstove. As they dried, they absorbed the smoke from the stove to give them added flavor. Sometimes called leather britches, these were chewed during the winter, helping to avoid vitamin deficiencies.


Popcorn was another source of fun at Christmas. Using thread and a needle, it was carefully turned into a garland. Dried items like the rose hips gathered from wild roses could also be added to the garland for color. In America, the tradition of a popcorn garland actually dates back to Williamsburg, Virginia. According to author Phillip Snyder, the first Christmas tree in that city appeared in 1842. It was decorated with popcorn and colored paper. (from The Christmas Tree Book by that author) Pioneers would be very familiar with the practice adapted from traditions brought to the United States by German immigrants. These quickly became popular in the East.


In the days leading up to Christmas, one traditional item would be aging to gain flavor—the plum pudding. Mixed together and then placed in some type of linen, this was typically made two to three days before Christmas. It was steamed on Christmas day and served with a lemon sauce or a sweet milky sauce. My grandparents were still including it as a part of our Christmas celebration when I was a child and a teen. I remember well the spicy flavor of the very moist cake.


The homesteaders would gather on Christmas Eve as a family. Though the group might be small and the wind would howl outside as it whipped the snow, they would sing carols and read the Christmas story from the Gospel of Luke. Children would wake up to small homemade gifts left in stockings.


Yes, Christmas was treasured by these hardy homesteaders on the Kansas prairie.

(For further reading, I recommend https://www.legendsofamerica.com/we-christmas/.)

Christmas Pudding 

(My great-great-great grandmother brought this recipe with her to the United States when she immigrated from Northumbria, England. I believe the sorgum was a substitute for another ingredient since it was a common sweetener in Wisconsin.)

3 cups flour
1 tsp. soda
1 tsp. nutmeg
1 cup suet
1 cup soured milk
3 tsp. sorgum
1/2 cup sugar
Raisins

Steam 3 hours in cloth.

https://www.amazon.com/Keeper-Christmas-Spinster-Mail-Order-Brides-ebook/dp/B081BCGP2S

https://www.amazon.com/Snowy-Delivery-Christmas-Ornamental-Match-ebook/dp/B081PBQCFY

The Story behind the Immigrant's Journey by Linda Hubalek

Kajsa and Julia Runneberg- 1886

When researching the history of our family farm for my book, Butter in the Well, I found stories written down by Julia Olson that her mother—Kajsa Runneberg—had told her about their homesteading days. Julia was our neighbor to the north, and was like a grandmother to me.

She was born in 1884 and grew up on same farm as I did, in the 1950s. Julia moved to the next homestead when she married the neighbor boy Joe in 1911, and died when I was in high school in the early 1970s. (Julia gave me two old quilts that I'll guess were made in the house we both grew up in.)

Here’s the story of Julia's mother's journey to Kansas, that I wrote in a diary form, as if in Kajsa’s own words.

"March 7, 1868

Ellsworth, Kansas — I want to keep a journal of our adventure into the American Plains so I will have an account of what our first years were like.
In spring of '67 we traveled from Klevmarken, Sweden, to New York City, America, by ship, then by train to Jacksonville, Illinois. Now a year later, we're back on a train heading for the open prairies of Kansas.

We traveled from Jacksonville to St. Louis first. In Illinois we saw meadows of grass, wooded areas and towns. The scenery was much the same until we got past Kansas City. Then there were very few trees and the prairie grass stretched as far as the eye could see. The few towns we've gone through were very small and new. The farther west, the sparser it has gotten. I've heard Kansas called "the Great American Desert," but everything looks green. Of course it's spring now. Maybe the whole countryside dries up in the summer.

We were to get off at the town of Salina, in Saline County. Our friends in Jacksonville put destination tags on us and our belongings since we don't know much of the American language yet. Most people in Jacksonville were Swedish, so got along fine. Carl knows a few American words, since he had to work and did the shopping when we lived there.

The ride has been wearing on us. This morning Carl looked like he didn't feel good. The motion of the train car bouncing on the track and smoke from the engine's smokestack has made us all a little sick.
I was trying to watch the railroad station signs at each stop, but they were not always in sight. Each time Carl tried to find the conductor, to see if that was the place we were to get off. Instead of trying to ask, it was easier to point to his name tag.

At the last stop Carl rushed up to me and said: "Gather up our things and Christina! We've got to get off. This is Ellsworth. We missed Salina!"

I panicked when I realized we missed our stop. But, I knew Carl would figure out a way to get us back on the track to our destination. We have found overnight lodging and we will travel back to Salina tomorrow.

This was an extra expense we didn't need. 
 
 March 30, 1868

Carl came down with the fever and chills of ague that night here in Ellsworth. Thank the Lord he is finally getting over it. It could have been worse. I could have become a widow with a 15-month-old baby in a strange American town.

We've been at the Railroad Hotel for over three weeks. I've had to help the cook prepare and serve the meals in exchange for room and board for our small family. We were to find a innkeeper so kind.
Tomorrow we'll get back on the train heading for Salina. This time we will get off at the right town.”  

(Excerpts from Butter in the Well © by Linda K. Hubalek)

I find these stories fascinating, although Kajsa must have been in a real panic when it happened. We’re so connected with cell phone these days and can get help almost immediately. But think how the early immigrants in the 1800s had to rely on themselves or the help of strangers.

If you see someone that could use some help today, think of Kajsa, and reach out a hand. No matter what century, everyone appreciates help…

Many thanks from the Kansas prairie...
Linda Hubalek

THE LAST FREE LAND IN TEXAS

 

When at last I completed the raw manuscript titled Texas Dreamer and sent it off to my partner/reader, I immediately began to think of a new series. For months, the idea of Mail Order Brides has been floating around in my head, yet the idea didn't seem completely right for me.

THIS UNKNOWN WOMAN
MIGHT LOOK LIKE MY FIRST
WEST TEXAS BRIDE--
KATHLEEN PARKER

I scanned a couple of books and websites about pioneer Texas women who helped settle our state, hoping to find an idea. All these women were strong and unique in some way, and one story in particular grabbed my attention.

By the turn of the century, almost all the land in Texas had been designated for a particular use. Only one strip in West Texas remained and the government listed it as Free--4 Sections to a man. A section of land is 640 acres, one square mile. Four sections would be 2,560 acres, or four square miles.

Aha. My new series will be titled: WEST TEXAS BRIDES.

The first story is in the beginning stages, about my characters Josiah Fremont and Kathleen Parker. These two have an unlikely meeting--thus, the outline for my story. As yet, it is untitled.

At the dawn of the Twentieth Century, unsettled land was treasured by many. For it to be offered free, with a few requirements, enticed men, some with families, to go out west to the South Plains and stake a claim. After having it surveyed and staked off, the man would ride to Lubbock, about twenty miles away--or a day's ride on horseback--and file his claim in the courthouse. After three months of living on the land, the claim was completed.

Some owners lived alone on the land until a sod half-house could be constructed. Then he

would bring out his family, and they would begin to homestead.
A few women chose to live on the land right away, even if it meant living in their wagon.

My characters, though, are as concerned about whether to marry or not as they are about the free land. Josiah is definite about staking a claim, and he's just as determined to find a woman to look after his three motherless children.

Whether he marries her or not, he must convince one particular woman to accompany him on his venture. 
~~*~~
WIP Excerpt:
"All right. Can you cook? Do you think you could get used to children? Mine are real good, obedient...well, most of the time.  Lucas is a strong little guy and often acts like a man. He sees after his sisters real well."

She nodded. "I can cook, but I'm not used to cooking large amounts. That's something I could learn. But Mr. Fremont, I truly don't think I'm suitable for you as a wife. The life seems rather rugged, and I'm not used to that. I might make a mess of things. So, I must decline your offer."

Standing, she held out her hand. "Good day, Mr. Fremont. Good luck with your search for a wife."

Josiah stood. His heart pounded, knowing she was perfect. Her manner was likable and calm, the kind of woman he preferred, the kind he needed for this journey. Yes, it would be difficult, but he honestly could envision success that would make them all proud. She couldn't say no.

What could he do to persuade her?

Kathleen lowered her hand, but she didn't walk away. She kept searching his face and blinking.

He stood as immobile as she.

"Miss Carter..."

"Mr. Fremont..."

Both laughed. "You go first, Miss Carter. What were you about to say?"

"No, you go first, Mr. Fremont."

Twisting his hat by the brim around and around, he said, "Please don't say no. I can find another woman, I'm pretty sure. I have two other names, women I know personally, but truth be told, I don't think I could live with either one. You see, my Louise was a winner, a real lady who worked beside me. We were a team, and that's what I'm looking for, a partner...who might be my wife if that's what both of us want."

"A partner. Now, I rather like that. So based on these five minutes, you have concluded you could live with me."

A tiny quirk at one corner of her mouth told him she wanted to laugh. Ah, she had a sense of humor. Now that was something he liked.
~~*~~
Resources:
Handbook of Texas Online
Wikipedia
Wikimedia
Texas Tears and Texas Sunshine
Women of the West