Decatur Daily Democrat, Volume 46, Number 301, Decatur, Adams County, 22 December 1948 — Page 16

Cannon Fire Hails Christmas in Rome A cannon fired from the historic Castle of San Angelo at sunset on Christmas Eve proclaims the beginning of the Holy Season in Rome. By nine o’clock everyone is in church to witness the colorful and solemn processions of ecclesiastic dignitaries which precede the elaborate midnight Mass. Since everyone has fasted for twenty-four hours, festive banquets are in order after the religious solemnities. It is a gala after-mid-night in Rome: hotels and restaurants remain open, families and friends gather around sumptuous tables in gaily decorated homes; and in anticipation of the festivities,

xAjto/z ' ?*s v; \am v, V/f ,? • W AiS / J Z - W z*SjjT4 ' 2 ._ < 11 y _, _ I 1 MM flfl E&l&flt ■ JEmBI Hl yMMMBfc V MW ? '/]> < /rTTaMWffiß^M 11 " il "" awl ? Ift ">/ zaYSMi V It l\i Ir ft » ■ tM ,« f / " p ■ i l *l l I I i — i' V, I i \fti I Bast IJEaMgaBiSiHB I I I Ml I——_./L Y Jj, i.'J-l f&> -yjEjH ■L_ ... . , n V I I b\ 1 sSOL/ wP’Wn k •> "•• * • \ J ,£L ’ ' ’ BAhSwAMD ft»l , v\AJ XwWWMKM&®YIWBWiWu- < * i » Z^ 7 a\ v. X. • • 1, id n) |ii A.v i w M z Wv ii • ' il II “. 1] : ; / I / . / l . i i il H H i 1 ~ ' ’ ■*•'-(. v & , || i|S J £'" ? ~" '" “’ "~ H 1 i ' I \ I>S< ‘r TIT’ / ■ i -'flfw I f 7TZ '! \w i Th< Yuletidt season with its multitude of joys and manifestations of good cheer, is with us again. Once more it offers us the opportunity to set aside the routine of every-day business and in real sincerity wish all bur friends the blessings of A Merry Christmas and a Happy Hew Year. ’ » Stewart’s Bakery

-y"people' tires in formal attire. Between Christmas and Epiphany, the Calabrian shepherds—Pifferani —revisit the homes where they were most cordially welcomed during Advent when they came down from the hills to play their Italian bagpipes before the shrines of the Virgin. The Pifferani play for their Advent hosts during the post-Christ-mas holidays and receive gifts of wine, dried figs, and small sums of money from their hosts. Nut*Bowl Filled From Many Lands Nuts from all over the world go into your nut-bowl at Christmas. Like Christina* traditions, the nuts

THE DECATUR DAILY DEMOCRAT, DECATUR, INDIANA

so popular at this time of year are I a mixture of many varieties and different histories. The English walnut, for instance, is not English at all. It originated in Asia centuries ago and was called "the food of the gods.” The round little filbert and the almond came from the Old World. Other nuts, so familiar at Christmas, the hickory nut, the biack walnut and the chestnut, to say nothing of the pecan, are strictly American. The pecan is native to America and is found nowhere else. Two other American nuts worthy of mention ire the chestnut and the' butternut. Although many nuts originated in other parts of the world, almost ev-! ery variety known is now grown on | American soil and experts are con- i stantly searching for more kinds of I nuts to transplan, to this country. '

-(7)* jiF' jt Jr Once upon a time—according to Harz mountain legend—a poor miner’s wife was gathering pine cones in the forest. It was just before Christmas, her husband was ill, and there was no money in the house for food. So, she gathered the cones and sold them to the villagers for kindling—obtaining enough for the day’s necessities. One morning while she was looking for such cones, a little imp jumped out of a huge fir tree. . "Here, here are the biszast

driest cones of all! Take these," he shrieked, jumping up and down excitedly. Suddenly, there was such a shower of cones that the poor woman was frightened. She tried to run away, but could not move until the little imp had filled her basket. And, having started home, the basket grew heavier and heavier—she wished the elf hadn’t disappeared, he might have helped her. When she finally reached her hut, she called the children to help carry the basket inside. Emptying the basket, they found that every cone was made of solid silver. Commemorating these legendary silver cones, gilded pine cones are sold in modern stores, to decorate our homes—to burn and crackle gaily in our Christmas fires.

By CAROLYN GRANT IT WAS late when old Dan left the laundry where he worked, and snow fell in great flakes from the dark sky. He stopped for a moment along the street, unmindful of the eager passersby and their thoughtless jostling against him in their haste on this last night before Christmas. He lifted his face so that the soft flakes fell against his cheeks and melted in cold little drops of water that sought the deep lines sixty odd years had put there. Snow was a part of Christmas, and after days of hesitancy it had . come—just as he and Maggie had ali ways wanted it. "Snow makes the lights seem brighter in the store windows, along the decorated streets of our little town and in our home on our tinsel-draped cedar tree. We haven’t missed many Christmases, Dan, having our snow." It seemed long ago since Maggie had said that, tears, it seemed. Yet it had been only last year that they’d stood at their front window looking out at the dark sky, and Maggie’d said those words almost like a prayer. Dan sighed and let his chin drop into the upturned collar of his overcoat and started on. He wished the snow hadn't come. With Maggie gone, he could hardly bear its soft falling of down about him. He wanted to close his eyes against its brightness with the street lights shining upon it. He wanted to close his ears against the soft music that came from radios along the streets playing Christmas carols, and "White Christmas”—the song Maggie loved best. Christmas had come again. But for him there’d be no Christmas—ii'W'S He stopped in front of Carter’s store, but minutes passed before he realized that he’d stopped there. not any more. There’d be only memories of other Christmases eddying about him as the swirling snow, and the plans he and Maggie’d made for this Christmas even before they’d carried out the last would pass without realization, now that Maggie wasn’t here to help him carry them through. He stopped in front of Carter’s store, but minutes passed before he realized that he’d stopped there and was staring without actually seeing the array of Christmas toys behind the big plate glass window. His mind was going back. He was seeing again the glow in Maggie's face as each Christmas they’d shop together f(< others. Last year it had been the widow Benson and her six little Bensons, who would have been forgotten by Santa if they hadn't bought them gifts. Long ago they’d begun the ritual. They had no children of their own. But Maggie’d said, "We'll pretend that the children about us are ours." And her whole life had been one of giving at Christmas. This year they’d planned for the O’Shays. They lived in a little house down back of the old depot. "Little Billy’s just four and he's never had a wagon, Dan.” Maggie’d said, planning even as they trudged through the snow with their gayly wrapped gifts for the Bensons. "And little Jeep has never had a doll that can talk and go to sleep.” Dan shifted his feet, standing there in front of Carter’s, and snow gathered along the stoop of his shoulders. Somewhere among Maggie's belongings was a list of the things she'd planned to buy the O’Shays. He remembered it Each item came clear to him suddenly as the ringing of a bell, and it was as if Maggie stood by him then, warm and alive. She touched his arm and together they went into the store with its crowd of excited late shoppers. A clerk came up to Dan. "Something, sir?” Dan’s eyes were filmed, but they were watery from age and being out in the cold wind, the clerk thought "Yes," Dan said. “I have a long list of things to buy.” Maggie smiled, he knew be saw her smile, and she got to talking like she used to talk when they went out together to buy gifts on Christmas Eve. "We’re like a house, Dan.” she said. "We can close the doors and windows and others can't tell what we have locked inside. We live to bring happiness to others and for the good that we can do.” Dan looked up above packages piled high in his arms and smiled. He said to the clerk, "Merry Christmas, and now we'll be on our way." The clerk looked strange. Old people, he thought, were queer, and he called after Dan, "Merry Christ mas Io you, too, sir! Merry Christ mas!”

# t fto£ASoi | * wl ♦« * * * Jrl ROSEMARY I "The Children's Store’’ Is & ’ ZwilL. 1 I al 1 $ I 0 P.»v Our cheeriest Yulelide J . ■ sentiments harmonize with the B t merry notes of -j |\J5 Christmas bells as they ring out-joy to the work! and Happiness to all. s *4 1 * J* THE FRIENDLY STORE H OfTIJ I fl® I® ■■ ’///Ml - IW iWWV % \ Like the Christmas *«' X % 'Ji’ Q (n [ Wl carolers of old, we lift our fiA i 1 Ah ! voices to sing the i 1 'Oki ' age-long, sweet and ; W , ..Aw i ffi| t heartfelt wish... Sr CS-UKI o A MERRY CHRISTMAS I ' W V t Il f® 1 CAL PETERSON Clothing Store ! » V ...

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 22