Christmas in Idaho

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Christmas in Idaho

A Cosmological Conjecture About Time



Christmas in Idaho Ray Downing

Studio Macbeth New York 2020



C H A P T E R

O N E

Foreword The first snows of winter are the magical ones. The restlessness of dusty autumn gives way to the peaceful tinkle of the first flakes which drift down and light upon the carpet of dry leaves. The air is filled with a feeling of anticipation and the season is driven by the winds of inevitability. Christmas is coming, and the Earth greets it with snow covered roof tops and crystal laced tree bows. You sense it physically; but deep in the recesses of your consciousness there is something more: an intangible thing which pulls, then vanishes. There is a feeling, never fully realized, which will fade with the season, be stowed away in an attic and imprisoned in time, until the calendar flips to next December. CHRISTMAS IN IDAHO  ✳  1



C H A P T E R

T W O

The Delicate Creatures The snow had started early in the morning and a northerly wind blew across the tree tops and chim­neys. Slowly but steadily a thick white carpet covered the towns and countryside. The Earth was slipping into its winter slumber. Above the smoke scented air, past the crimson clouds, in a place just beyond the stars—but really just next door—an angel wept. What few realize is that these delicate creatures we call angels are paper thin, like the pages of a book. In fact, when viewed side on, they are completely invisible. This particular angel had once, in the distant past, turned and revealed herself to deliver a message of great joy. Now she wept, and a single tear fell from her blue eyes. CHRISTMAS IN IDAHO  ✳  5


which nature heaped upon him with every step. It seemed as if he were being punished for some long forgotten misdeed and nature’s knife felt like justice, a­ punishment for some original sin of which he had no memory and for which he had accepted a death sen­ tence. Perhaps forgetfulness was the original sin. Then, just as Idaho felt that he could not lift his legs one step further, something changed. The gnarled and twisted bows parted. The lines of trees thinned and the pull of gravity on his weary legs lessened. Weaker and weaker it grew, and faster and faster Idaho moved. He could see now that he had reached the plateau of a steep mountain. A clearing lay just ahead, illuminated by a strange celestial light. Idaho was now running as he left the forest. Up ahead, a fox, two deer, and three snow rabbits had gathered and were gazing upward at a brilliant star that lit the night sky.


Idaho left the dark woods behind him and entered the clearing. The winds had lost their ferocity and large snow flakes fell lazily downward. As he approached the animals who stood at the edge of a ing a small town, they turned and cliff overlook­ nodded in accep­tance. The entire company stood on that night and bathed in the light of that star as if drawing sustenance from it. Idaho’s eyes fell upon the snow covered steeple of a tall white church in the town below. The church dwarfed the buildings which surrounded it and seemed to point directly to the star, which illuminated the wide landscape. Below the steeple in the church’s icy belfry, Idaho was able to discern a shape—the shape and the sound were one and the same. It was the bells! He could hear them once again, although they remained motionless. The glad chimes rumbled through his body as his eyes delighted in their metallic beauty. He heard with his eyes and saw that his jour­ ney had not been in vain. The bells called him from afar and he had answered their call: he had not failed!

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dusting them with snow, and gasped as his broom struck a tree limb in mid handle and sent Idaho spin­ ning head over heels into the air. Idaho made a perfect landing at the bottom of the cliff and sailed effortlessly into the middle of the main street. The town was quiet. Idaho could see smoke curling out of the chimneys. The street was lit by lamps and store windows but the houses were quiet and dark inside. The branches of each and every tree which lined

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the street were wrapped with small white Christmas lights, and the snow covered every surface in the town. Idaho walked straight down the middle of the street with his lantern and broom stick at his side. He passed the town bakery, the bank, the mayor’s of­fice, and the shoe maker shop. Frost had etched designs on all the windows as the vil­ lage slept. Idaho had never seen anything to match the majesty of this hushed little town. Idaho followed the main street until it came to an end at the steps of the church. Above him slept the enor­ mous bells whose sound had shaken him in his mo­ ments of despair. He had come to learn what it was they had to show him, and to share in the joy they pro­ claimed so loudly. The interior of the church was dark but the light of the street lights outside poured in from the stained glass windows. The air was still in there, and the mild odor of incense and candle smoke was everywhere. Idaho walked from the back of the church, past the collection baskets and the poor boxes, down the red carpeted aisle in the center of the church, touching each pew as he passed.

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C H A P T E R

F I V E

Christmas Joy The night was growing colder and Idaho’s need to know overtook his shy and cautious nature. It must be added that the growling in his stomach and his recol­ lection of the family dinner added impetus to his deci­ sion. Idaho found himself slowly lifting the latch and leaning into the front door. The door moaned and carefully, silently, he closed it behind him. The stairway to upstairs was before him, and just to the side was a short hallway. Idaho could see some light in the room beyond. He was there in an instant and poked his head through the doorway. The Christmas tree glowed in the corner and a flowered couch sat across from it.

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As his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the church, Idaho’s attention was drawn to a manger illuminated by racks of candles. The statues seemed so real to the snowman that for a few moments he thought he had seen one of the sheep move. And when his eyes set upon the Madonna and Child, he instinctively re­moved his hat. Idaho looked into the face of the mother who gazed lovingly at her baby, then at the bearded man who stood protectively by the baby’s side. He saw shepherds standing by and kings bearing gifts, all focused on the infant. Idaho realized that the building which surrounded him was dedicated to the loving memory of this child. He wondered what this child had accomplished and what became of him. There were Christmas trees surrounding the stable and farm animals resting near the manger. Idaho glanced down at his cap which he held in front of him and caught sight of the robin. It was so silent and peaceful in that stable. Idaho tore a piece of burlap from his tattered vest and wrapped it around the robin; he lovingly placed the dead bird on a patch of straw near the baby, surrounded by the other animals. Idaho was glad that he had not abandoned the robin in the dark and angry woods. This was a peaceful place and they could both stay here.

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Idaho took a seat in the first row pew, close to the manger, and studied the baby whose arms were stretched out towards him.“You see, I am a snowman.” He composed a short speech of introduc­tion in his mind. “And babies don’t melt... but, you see, snowmen do... and... this is my birthday too.” He collected himself and continued, “...You see, I started out fat and round, but I am planning on losing weight soon, but when I lose it, I’ll lose it all.” Idaho shook with emotion and slumped back into the bench, un­able to go on. He had not uttered a single word, but his hands gestured with each and every sentence he had intended to deliver.

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CHA P T ER

ELEV E N

The Light of Day The sun rose the next morning, as it always does. And the storm clouds sailed far into the distance. The vil­ lage children awakened early. They pressed their faces to the cold bedroom windows and smiled upon the snowy landscape that greeted them. The villagers filtered down from the hills into the town and from every corner people filed into the church, to sing the old carols and to once again hear the story of a baby born in a stable. On that Christmas morning, they found no puddle of melted snow on the floor! They found no carrot nose! They found no water-soaked cap!

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