THURSDAY, december 20, 2018 Vol. 75, No. 51
Serving Fort St. John, B.C. and Surrounding Communities
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THE CAROLING CARROLLS
Intangible Christmas
When You Are Out in the Field, Time IS Money.
By Whitney Braun
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Robbie and Janine Carroll and their five kids Aleah, Emma, Josiah, Katelyn, and Isaac, along with Gabby Yuen were down at No Frills on Dec. 17 singing carols and raising money for the Salvation Army’s Red Kettle campaign. It’s the second year the family has volunteered for the cause. “Gabby here got us into it. She invited the girls and we had so much fun,” says Janine. “And we like to sing.” The campaign is in its final stretch, and just under $40,000 has been raised. The Salvation Army is hoping to raise at least $65,000 by Christmas Eve. You can find volunteers and kettles at No Frills, Save-On Foods, Safeway, Walmart, and Totem Mall.
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The Christmas Boxes By Ronnie Roberts
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W
ith a blast of arctic air, Olivia burst through the front door. “Daddy! I need that box from your new shoes!” She kicked off her boots, dropped her coat to the floor, and raced into the TV room waving a Dollar Tree bag. “You should see!” she crowed. “I found the best presents, but I need a bigger box.” Her dad lowered the sound of the game with the remote. “Oh yeah? What did you bring me?” “Not for you—for my box— for my...” She stopped, frowned, then brightened up. “For the little girl I don’t know yet. In…” Again, she stopped, making a face this time. “Where does she live, Daddy?” “She could live far away in a place called Nicaragua, in South America.” “Does not.” Olivia’s big brother Jett drifted into the room with his bag of loot and slumped onto the couch as if his bones could no longer support his rangy body. He clicked off his iPod and pulled out his earbuds, letting them dangle from his shoulders. “They go all over the world. Places in Africa, like Uganda and all over South and Central America, even the Ukraine. You can’t know where yours is going.” His father lifted his eyebrows at him. “If Olivia thinks—” “Come and get ‘em! We got a side of wings to go with.” Mom glanced into the TV room on her way to the breakfast bar, balancing two extra-large takeout pizzas and a carton of wings. Over pizza, the whole family scrutinized the now-ragged paper that listed what they could
pack into a Christmas box. Jett had chosen to pack his box for a boy between the ages of 10 and 14; Olivia had chosen a girl between the ages of 5 and 8. After only a few bites of pizza, supper was abandoned, the boxes were brought out, and the shopping bags upended across the dining room table. Olivia’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she gazed at the mountain of gifts. “My box will be so awesome.” “Let’s starting packing,” Mom said. “You read out the highlighted items for us, Honey.” “But I want to pack too!” “You will. Just start reading and we’ll make sure everything goes inside.” “But I can’t read and pack.” Olivia pouted. Jett took the limp paper from her hands. “I’ll read—you pack.” Olivia’s face brightened with anticipation. “Okay.” Silently, Mom mouthed a “thank you” to Jett. He shrugged. No biggie. He began reading. “School supplies, hygiene items and toys.” He looked up from the list to the pile. “We should maybe start with notebooks, since they’re flat.” Olivia found the four notebooks she’d chosen, with the Disney Princess covers, and placed them reverently into her box. “You might as well pack my box at the same time. I have notebooks too,” Jett said. Olivia found Jett’s two books, much thicker than her books since they were destined for an older boy, and placed them into his box. Mom rearranged them, so
their coiled spines fit together better. “We need all the space we can get, Honey.” Jett added, “Now the pencil cases. Put the pencils, sharpener, pens and erasers inside first.” “And glue sticks.” Olivia’s little tongue was out now, concentrating on filling the pencil cases. “And these cool stickers.” She slid in sheets of Disney Princess stickers she’d found. Jett took a huge bit of pizza and mumbled, “I see you’re rocking the princess theme.” “The scissors and six-inch ruler will fit in there too,” Mom said, handing them over. “That’s why we picked the shorter ones. Oh, and these mini solar-powered calculators.” Mom pulled them out of their packaging and handed them to Olivia. Oliva completed the two pencil cases and laid them onto the boxes. “What’s next?” Jett said, “Put the shower curtain in mine now.” Finishing off the last of the chicken wings, Dad asked, “A shower curtain? How come?” “Ground cover.” Jett and his dad exchanged grim glances. Jett made himself look away, saying, “How about the faceclothes next, then hard stuff? We’ll stack ‘em like building blocks.” Mom and Olivia located the two shampoo bars and two bars of soap, placed them into travel containers, and tucked them into the boxes. Mom said, “The bars will last much longer this way.” They added in flat-packed ponchos, combs, and salt-stick deodorants. There was still a ton of room. CONTINUED ON A2
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hris scratched his beard with one hand as his other kept a tight hold on the reins. A cluster of lights below indicated he had almost reached his next destination. He approached swiftly and silently over Charlie Lake, only able to hear the wind that whistled through his coat and chilled his bones. Last year, he hadn’t had to think much about the people of Fort St. John. It had been booming. Big money, big houses, big families. Big trucks, big spenders, big Christmas lists that all the parents had taken care of without so much as a blink. Not this year. This year, it was all up to him. First up. Clairmont. He spotted a long double wide, perfect for a smooth landing. “Whoa,” he said as he made the final descent. And as light as a snowflake could hit the ground, his four-legged team landed his sleigh on the roof. And so the night went, house after house. A pony for her, a pair of skates for him. Teddy bears, books, games, and bikes. But for the adults it was something much more. If there was one thing he’d learned about the people of this town, it was that Christmas needed to be about something a little more than the tangible. For the man who lost his job a week before Christmas, a sense of peace knowing another one will come along soon. For the single mother who couldn’t pay her rent, a feeling of joy knowing that she had a friend who would take them in. For the elderly who sit at their windows watching the world go by, a visit from their grandchildren. For the man who has everything but is more lonely than ever, a friend. No truck, or house, or quad, or snowmobile would bring the joy of connection. This Christmas, Chris decided that a little grace was better than a lump of coal.
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