EDITOR'S NOTE: The following letter was written by Coeur d'Alene resident John Alden in 2003 about a New England Christmas he and his wife Irvina experienced years ago when they lived in Duxbury, Mass., adjacent to Plymouth and the 1620 Pilgrim territory. Alden's 10th grandfather, also named John Alden, was among the 102 passengers on the Mayflower's iconic 66-day, 2,750-mile voyage from England to the new world in 1620.

Grandpa's house was 130 miles away and our little family of four had been looking forward to our annual New Hampshire Christmas for such a long time! We scrambled into the ford V-8 and away we went, up from Cape Cod, around Boston on route 28, then into New Hampshire.

"Are we there, yet, Daddy?" pleaded our two children, Jackie 9 and Brad 5. They were waking up from a trip nap and familiar landmarks were flashing by. In those days, that trip took 5 hours - an eternity to children! Just beyond Concord it began to snow, and as the end of the trip approached we could almost smell the fresh-cut Christmas tree - also Nanna's home-baked bread! At last the little town of Barnstead came into view and a bit later we turned onto the mile-long gravel road leading to the old farm called Heritage Hill (Grampa's family name was Hill).

Slowly we drove through the woods with snow filtering down through the headlight beams. Christmas excitement was at a fever pitch! Then came the familiar thump-bump at the bridge over the Meadow Brook not far from the farm. As we turned into the driveway and tooted the horn, snow scurried around Grampa's feet as he hurried to meet us, a glad welcome glistening in his eyes! Nanna's apron-clad form appeared in the doorway as the children leapt from the car to greet their grandparents. Thanksgiving filled our hearts for our safe journey as we unpacked and carried in the presents so carefully selected for each other! After a light supper of homemade soup, bread, and delicious Christmas cookies, the children were tucked in snug featherbeds to dream of the surprise awaiting them the next day. Grampa had already cut a beautiful, fragrant Douglas fir-tree from the woods behind the house, so now began the decorating as we carefully placed the traditional angels and nostalgic ornaments saved from three and four generations past. As we placed them on the branches of that majestic tree, our attention was turned to the loud crackling of the fireplace fire. Hearts as well as bodies were being warmed! Was that fire radiating more than just heat that evening? Perhaps the warmth of Jesus' love? Just above that fire and its message of harmony hung six empty Christmas stockings. They were of white cotton, at least 3 feet long, preserved from generations past, and would stretch to unwarranted dimensions when loaded with fascinating gifts, all wrapped in fancy holiday wrapping paper. But this was Nanna's domain, "Santa will fill the stockings, later," she informed us! So we sat down to a last cup of hot-mulled cider and planned a few left-over ideas for the morrow's celebration. Peace that passes understanding was always there at the farm, and tonight was no exception.

We awoke to a scene of white, pristine beauty; Heritage Hill had 10 inches of new-fallen powdery snow on field, house and barn. Smoke trailed upward from the chimney into cerulean blue and sun-rays sparkled from icicles along the eaves.

Inside, a fairyland in the living room brought squeals of wonder from Jackie and Brad. They stopped in the center of the room, just looking, unable for a minute to absorb the Christmas transformation of a room where just the night before had been a fireplace, a mantle with six empty stockings, and a bare, green tree. The now-decorated and lighted tree, 6 ft. wide at the bottom, rose beautifully and symmetrically to the 9 ft. ceiling, its ornaments fairly dazzling. The stockings bulged with gifts, each one having an orange in the toe. "Tree-gifts" were literally heaped under the jeweled Christmas tree, and holly, mistletoe and greens decorated the mantle, windows, and room perimeter.

Thus began our Christmas day "at the farm!" Pancakes with maple syrup from maple trees out back were hungrily devoured - after we'd "had" the stockings. Opening the tree presents took a good part of the rest of the day - and all day long, the aroma of roasting turkey whispered its message of a coming feast.

After that sumptuous dinner (actually almost a banquet) so carefully and lovingly prepared by Nanna and Irvina, and as the evening sun disappeared, we read the Christmas story from the Gospel of Luke, understanding anew God's wonderful gift of Himself, the reason for the great peace we were experiencing on this Christmas Day in New England.