The Gift of Life

The Greatest Yule Gift of All

It was Christmas Eve, 1923, when the incident took place. It was back on our farm in Orange, PA. I was a 7 year old girl then. After all the evidence people still didn't believe it happened, but it did.

"We need more firewood," I can again hear my mother saying to my father. "In a week it will be Christmas Eve. When you're sitting pretty smoking your pipe in front of your fire with no more logs to burn, you'll get angry at me."

"Woman" he replied, "I'll fetch your fire wood." My father bundled himself up, took his rifle, walked to the barn for his ax and saw and hitched up the horse to the sled. "Can I come along?" I shyly asked.

It was a bright day. My father was in a good mood. "Ah, my Tessie, my sweet Tessie, yes come along if you wish."

The horse pulled the sled through the snow covered forest. My father knew where a few fallen tress were located. He found the dried logs under snow and quickly went to work.

Suddenly there was a stillness. I no longer heard my father chopping or sawing fire wood. When I looked up, I saw him standing motionless and silently staring. I followed the direction of his eyes.

At first, I thought the figure was a dog, but from my father's seriousness I knew it must be something more. Then my father broke his stillness and went to the sled for his rifle. I looked at the grey orange animal standing in the clearing, staring at my father and me. I was not moving but not afraid. I said to my father, "What is it Daddy?"

"It's a wolf honey. They've been gone from this area for 50 years but there it stands."

"What do you plan to do?"

"Shoot it, so don't move."

I watched as my father got into position and raised his rifle. Even at seven I knew what killing was all about. I walked beside him and pulled on his jacket.

"Honey, don't do that!"

"But Daddy," I said, "why are you shooting it ?" "Why are you shooting the pretty dog?"

"It's not a dog, hone, it's a wolf."

"But the wolf isn't harming us, daddy."

I watched as my father looked back at the wolf, then down at me. There were no livestock missing at our place.

"I suppose you're right, Tess."

I gazed at the wolf. It was still standing there strangely, almost mystically staring.

"Your lucky wolf, that Tess was here today to protect you."

The wolf boldly took a last look at my father and me, then scampered away up into the deep forest.

My father said nothing more. He returned to his work, finished and we rode home.

On Christmas Eve, our house was ready. The relatives started arriving and there was kissing, hugging and gifts exchanged. Yet, I was getting bored with all the commotion. What I wanted to do was open my gifts which were under the tree, but mother said I had to wait.

I asked "Mommy, can I go out and play for a while?"

She was occupied with other matters. "All right, but stay around the house. Your father says a storm's coming."

I bundled myself up and was quickly out in the Christmas Eve snow. I wandered toward the woods. Before I realized it, night was nearly upon me. It was a silent twilight, then suddenly the storm hit. One second the forest was calm and peaceful, and the next the wind was blowing heavily falling snow in my face, blinding me. The wind was biting. It was getting colder and darker. I started immediately for home, but every step was a struggle. I kept walking for what seemed like hours, and finally in desperation I started shouting "Mommy, Daddy, help me"

I don't know how long I walked around that night in the hills of Orange, but finally exhausted, I stumbled under pine tree branches and closed my eyes. I was still too young to understand such concepts as death, so I didn't know I was dying, I was slowly freezing to death.

Suddenly I felt a strange weight upon me, and also a welcome warmth. It was an effort to open my eyes, but when I did I thought someone had covered me with some sort of grey orange blanket. But then I saw that it wasn't a blanket, but the dog my father and I had seen the week before-the dog my father had called a wolf.

Strangely, I wasn't frightened, but relieved that I wasn't cold any more. The heat the animal gave off started to warm me while the cruel Pennsylvania blizzard blew. On that Christmas Eve, I was rocked gently to sleep by the heat of the animal my father had almost shot.

The next time I opened my eyes, I heard my father's voice calling, "Tessie, Tessie."

It was light out. The wind was no longer blowing and the snow had stopped.

Then I saw the wolf. It was standing near me, shaking the snow off it's back. Suddenly it's ears shot straight up as my father's voice called out again.

The wolf took one last glance at me, then quickly disappeared.

"Daddy," I said weakly, "here."

I saw my father's face staring down at me. He was crying. He said, "Thank God she's still alive."

When I opened my eyes again, I as in my own bed, warm at last. My mother was sitting at the side of the bed, gently stroking my forehead. My father was standing by her, and he said, "It's a miracle she's alive. But all practical reasoning, she should have frozen out there."

"The dog, Daddy," I said weakly, "The dog we saw in the woods. When you were chopping and sawing, Daddy. The dog was with me. The dog kept me warm all through the night."

"She's saying a wolf kept her alive? The day we went wood cutting and she came along, she stopped me from shooting a wolf. I think she is saying the wolf kept her warm through the night."

"Yes," I said, "It was the wolf."

"Impossible" my mother said

"There's only one way to find out." my father replied. "I'm going back to the place where I found her."

When he returned, he confirmed my story. Indeed, he had found a wolf's tracks there.

I've never forgotten that Christmas Eve with the wolf warming me and rocking me gently to slepp in that bitter blizzard, giving me the greatest Christmas gift of all-life.