A Hill country christmas story

Our Hill Country Christmas. From L-R: Darleen Dixon, Jennifer Dixon & Michelle Dixon

It was the mid 1970’s and I was ten years old, attending 5th grade at Mountain Valley School in Sattler, Texas. Christmas break that year was rainy, soggy and grey; but who cared?! We were kids out of school, free to do whatever we wanted to (or as much as mom would allow, anyway). Because of the rain Tom Creek, which trickled through our backyard, was full to its banks and the running water was music to my ears. Even though it was cold my sister Michelle and I splashed around in the creek as much as mom would let us; sailing leaf boats and sticks downstream. I made a ring of rocks on the stacked limestone rock wall that ran along the creek and filled it with nuts for the squirrels. We rode our bicycles around the cul-de-sac when it was dry enough, even daring to drag our bikes up the steep hill on the main road and fly down at top speed. When it was too rainy to play outside I spun my mom’s records on the Hi-Fi: Peter Paul and Mary; Simon and Garfunkel; The Kingston Trio; and one I had picked up from the local electronic repair shop- Gladys Knight and the Pips with the Temptations LIVE! When I wasn’t listening to records or the radio I always had my nose in a book- mostly Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys, or some horsey thing.

My letter to Santa that year contained my dearest dream, the thing I had wished for every birthday for years and had written Santa about several times before: a pony. I was horse crazy and there was nothing I wanted more than my very own pony. My Granddaddy would take us girls to his friend Carl’s place sometimes, where we would revel in the wide open acres and spend the day feeding and petting his horses Lucy and Charlie Brown. Sometimes we even got to ride them. I imagined myself riding my own horse, galloping as fast as we could go through endless fields and meadows, through rivers and streams. My horse and I would be the best of friends, I would teach her to come to my whistle and do all kinds of tricks just like Roy Roger’s Trigger or the Lone Ranger’s Silver. My beautiful horse would have a fine western saddle with shiny silver pieces and a beautiful bridle. Maybe I would even be a barrel racer in the Comal County Rodeo!

My step sister Jenny came to visit just before Christmas, a rare treat. When it came time to put up a Christmas tree it was decided that we would cut down a cedar from the side acre on our property. We didn’t have much money, certainly not enough to buy a tree. So my Step-father got out his hand hatchet and the family prepared to brave the rain and mud to find the best tree on the lot that we could. Kitting up to go outside was like getting ready for the Arctic Circle! We put on our warmest coats, gloves and hats. Because we didn’t have any proper rain gear mom outfitted us with garbage bags around our feet and cut holes in the tops to put over our heads. Even though we were only going to the side lot, it felt like a major adventure as we trekked through the back yard, under the big oak tree, and out to the cedar and brush filled acre.  Of course we girls wanted the biggest tree we could find, but the adults spoke reason, explaining that we wouldn’t be able to get such a huge tree into the house. So we settled on a little cedar that was a bit taller than my five feet, Daddy Bob cut it down and we all helped carry the sopping wet tree to the house.

We shook the tree off as best we could before carrying it inside and stripped off our trash bag protective gear. We all warmed up by the cast iron stove that was kept stoked up with an abundance of cedar and oak. Mom fixed herself some hot tea, we girls had hot chocolate and I guess Daddy Bob had a beer. Once we were sufficiently defrosted and dried out we set about to trimming the tree. Mom popped some popcorn and we took needle and thread to make popcorn strings. There were many treasured ornaments from years past that were hung after the popcorn string and the shiny garland, the tree was topped with an angel and Michelle, Jenny and I were allowed to festoon the tree with tinsel- mostly thrown on in sparkling handfuls. 

On Christmas Day my sisters and I were up at the cock’s crow, running excitedly in to wake our folks. Everyone donned robes and the smoldering stove fire was brought to flames with fresh wood. The wrapping paper flew, hugs and kisses abounded with each new and precious gift… but there was no pony to be found. Later that morning my Granddaddy and my step-grandmother Jane came to visit, and bearing gifts. One package was a very odd shape and smelled like leather, the tag was addressed to me. Once opened the present revealed was a kid sized fine Western saddle! Granddaddy explained that my pony was coming later, a Shetland who was the offspring of Charlie Brown and Lucy. I was thrilled beyond words. My new friend’s name was Peppermint Patty and when I laid eyes on her my heart was filled with joy. That sweet pony wasn’t saddle broke and she had a knack for escaping her corral, but I loved her with a passion unknown to me before.

Peppermint Patty was the finest gift I had ever received, and I spent every minute I could brushing her mane and getting her used to that saddle. As it turned out I never did get to ride her, because my step-dad soon got orders from the Air Force for an overseas assignment and Patty had to be sold. But for the time she was mine I was the happiest horse loving girl in Texas. That Christmas is one that will live forever in my heart and mind.

Merry Christmas Friends and Neighbors!

-Darleen Dixon