Fruitcake~Hope is a Star

I’d like to share a story I wrote several years ago. This is the 50th Christmas since my Dad left the earth and it seems like a fitting tribute. This is for you Dad, my shining star and for my mother, who has now joined him and also guides me on my journey.

Hope is a Star

The Christmas I remember most poignantly, was wrapped in deep sorrow and sadness. It was December 1965 and I had just turned 6 years old. My family and I lived in the small town of Hope, B.C., on the west coast of Canada. My three older sisters had been heard to say our little town was, “beyond hope, as there wasn’t a lot for children and teenagers to do. Still, I loved our quaint little town, nestled next to tall, forested mountains and I felt safe and happy in the white clapboard house that my father, (and mother) had built for us, adding on piece by piece over the years as our family grew. It glowed with the happy hum of a loving family. But that Christmas lay quiet and dark.

My father, Marvyn Clark, had been killed in an Esso company, truck accident on the Hope Princeton highway the September before. He had left my mother alone, struggling to care for myself and my three older sisters. Since I was young, I didn’t comprehend the depths of despair or grief but I felt it. It lay heavy on me, like when I would burrow under a pile of fake fur and wool coats thrown on my parent’s bed when company arrived. I couldn’t breathe.

Wonderful smells of cinnamon and ginger didn’t waft from the kitchen and there weren’t sounds of tissue rustling or my mother’s sewing machine creating magic into the wee hours of the night. There was no trip to the mountains to choose the most perfectly shaped and fragrant fir tree, nor was there any adult laughter or music coming from our living room after I had been tucked away for the night. When my dad was alive, I would often fall asleep listening to him tapping away on his typewriter, or playing his violin and oh, the deep comforting smell of his presence; rich pungent with a hint of pipe tobacco and gasoline, I missed that the most.

A friend of my mother’s took my sister, J and I, to the big city to see Santa. While it was an adventure to leave our small town, and the sweet peppermint candy cane I received after sitting on Santa’s lap was delicious, a piece of me had been shattered and knew, not even Santa could bring what I longed for most. My Dad.

J and I visiting Santa the Christmas after Dad was killed, 1965

That Christmas Eve stands out as a pivotal shift among the stillness of the season. I wore a red, hand me down dress with scratchy crinoline and white tights, that annoyingly needed to be pulled up every few moments. We attended our family’s United Church candlelight service and listened to the story of how God’s love illuminated the world with a star and a baby.

As we walked home in the crisp, cold evening, our boots crunched on the newly fallen snow. I looked up into the black velvet sky to see the brightest star. It seemed to follow us on our path home and no matter which way we turned, it hovered over head. Finally, we arrived at our darkened home and my mother and sisters stepped into our little front porch, stamping the snow off of their boots but I hung back. I hesitated to look up for fear the star had vanished but then, a sense of peace poured through me as I scanned the sky once more, only to find it still shimmering with brilliant light right above my head. I was sure it was glowing, just for me.

At last, I could bear the bone chilling air no longer, I took one last look and joined my family. Warm light was spilling out our front door and I could hear the hum of voices within.

~The End~

Merry Christmas!

I have held HOPE in my heart ever since that Christmas and like that special star, it never wavers. I KNOW we are loved and cared for. We may not understand why life has to be so hard at times but we need to just trust and let go, knowing, all shall be well.

Please join me in going down memory lane with some photos from Christmases in Hope

MY Dad, Marvyn and my mom Ethel Clark
Here, I am as a little one, Debra Lee…aka Hope
A typical Christmas morning while my dad was still alive…Dad, my sister J and myself in the kerchief…pin curls in my hair
While we were not well off, we were wealthy in so many ways…rich in hard work, integrity, honesty and love

 

My sister C was a teenager when Dad passed away…this was from a happier Christmas
The Four Clark girls, that’s me on the left, then my oldest sister B, then J and finally my second oldest sister, C

 

My family…the Clark’s

 

I love this picture of my parents…Dad looks so happy and notice my mom touching his hand…they loved each other so much

 

My Dad and my sisters and I with the snowman we made in front of our house…I think this was the last winter before Dad died

Well dearest blog family, I hope you enjoyed going down memory lane with me and I hope that you remember, the real Christmas magic, is holding hope in your heart. It lights us up, allowing us to live a richer life full of meaning and most important of all, and what God gave us so many Christmases ago,…………………………………………………………. LOVE   

Before I go and get my family ready for our family pictures today, I wanted to share with you my own fruitcake recipe. After we come home from our candlelight service on Christmas eve, we light a single white candle on the cake and we sing “Happy Birthday” to Jesus. It helps to keep the true meaning of Christmas foremost in our minds before the gift giving portion the following morning. Maybe, if you share the same sort of belief as I, you can add it as one of your family traditions. There is something about mixing a big bowl of fruitcake that takes me right back to Christmases with my mom….and my Dad and helps me keep our house humming.

Hope’s Baby Jesus Fruitcake

Ingredients

1/4 lb of sliced almonds
1/2 lb (about 11/2 cups) of dark raisins
1/2 lb mixed peel or glazed fruit
1/4 cups glazed or well drained maraschino cherries..sliced
2-1/2 cups pre-sifted all purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1-1/4 cups sugar
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp almond extract
1 tsp grated lemon rind
1- 1/2 tbsp lemon juice
4 eggs 
(cooking oil to grease pans)

Directions

Grease and line cake tins with 3 layers of heavy waxed paper or 2 layers of brown paper. Grease each piece of paper with cooking oil. Blanche and halve the almonds; then toast in moderate oven. Combine in large bowl with raisins, peel and sliced cherries

Measure 1/2 cup flour without sifting and add to fruit, stirring until fruit is well coated. Measure remaining 2 cups flour without sifting, add baking powder and salt and stir thoroughly to blend

Cream butter until fluffy, gradually add sugar, mixing until creamy. Add flavouring and then the eggs; one at a time, beating well after each addition. Mix in dry ingredients until well combined. Blend in fruit and nuts. Fill Cake tins 2/3.

Bake at 325 F for 1 1/2 to 2 hours….when toothpick comes out clean. Happy Birthday Jesus!
 

Yummy!….but then I’m kind of old fashioned.

As I leave you, I am singing the lovely hymn our United church sings every Christmas eve. If you can’t see the YouTube link below…click on the hyper link to hear, “Hope is a Star.” (it’s really catchy and you may find yourself humming it over the holidays)

 

1. Hope is a star that shines in the night,
leading us on till the morning is bright.

Refrain:
When God is a child there’s joy in our song.
The last shall be first and the weak shall be strong,
and none shall be afraid.

2. Peace is a ribbon that circles the earth,
giving a promise of safety and worth.

3. Joy is a song that welcomes the dawn,
telling the world that the Saviour is born.

4. Love is a flame that burns in our heart.
Jesus has come and will never depart.
I hope your holiday is filled with the magic of the season and you hold the true meaning of Christmas in your heart for the whole year through.

The little reindeer on our mantle is a treasure from my childhood…as long as I can remember it was in our home


Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Blessings from Hope





 

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