We should bring ourselves to an accounting at the beginning of the New Year and ask these questions: What have I accomplished? Where have I fallen short of what I desired and planned to do and be?

I never have been in favor of making good resolutions on New Year’s Day just because it was the first day of the year. Any day may begin a new year for us in that way, but it does help some to have a set time to go over the year’s efforts and see whether we are advancing or falling back.

If we find that we are quicker of temper and sharper of tongue than we were a year ago, we are on the wrong road. If we have less sympathy and understanding for others and are more selfish than we used to be, it is time to take a new path.

I helped a farmer figure out the value of his crops raised during the last season, recently, and he was a very astonished person. Then when we added to that figure the amount he had received for livestock during the same period, he said: “It doesn’t seem as if a man who had taken in that much off his farm would need a loan.”

This farmer friend had not kept any accounts and so was surprised at the money he had taken in and that it should all be spent. Besides the help in a business way, there are a great many interesting things that can be gotten out of farm accounts, if they are rightly kept.

The Man of the Place and I usually find out something new and unexpected when we figure up the business at the end of the year. We discovered this year that the two of us, without any outside help, had produced enough in the last year to feed 30 person for a year — all the bread, butter, meat, eggs, sweetening and vegetables necessary — and this does not include the beef cattle sold off the place.

I do not know whether Mr. Hoover would think we have done as much as we should, but I do think it is not so bad. I had been rather discouraged with myself because I have not had so much time to spend with Red Cross work as some of my friends in town, but after I found out just what we have done, I felt better about it.

The knitting and making of garments for the Red Cross is very necessary and important but the work of making the hens lay and filling the cream can is just as commendable. Without the food which the farm women are helping to produce, the other work would be of no value.

If you have not already done so, just figure up for yourselves and you will be surprised at how much you have accomplished.

“Make a New Beginning”  by Laura Ingalls Wilder, published in The Missouri Ruralist, January 5, 1918

The snow was scudding low over the drifts of the white world outside the little claim shanty. it was blowing thru the cracks in its walls and forming little piles and miniature drifts on the floor and even on the desks before which several children sat, trying to study, for this abandoned claim shanty that had served as t he summer home of a homesteader on the Dakota prairies was being used as a schoolhouse during the winter.

The walls were made of one thickness of wide boards with cracks between and the enormous stove that stood nearly in the center of the one room could scarcely keep out the frost tho its side were a glowing red. The children were dressed warmly and had been allowed to gather closely around the stove following the advice of the county superintendent of schools, who on a recent visit had said that the only thing he had to say to them was to keep their fee warm.

This was my first school, I’ll not say how many years ago, but I was only 16 years old and 12 miles from home during a frontier winter. I walked a mile over the unbroken snow from my boarding place to school every morning and back at night. There were only a few pupils and on this particular snowy afternoon they were restless for it was nearing 4 o’clock and tomorrow was Christmas. “Teacher” was restless too, tho she tried not to show it for she was wondering if she could get home for Christmas Day.

It was almost too cold to hope for father to come and a storm was hanging in the northwest which might mean a blizzard at any minute. Still, tomorrow was Christmas — and then there was a jingle of sleigh bells outside. A man in a huge fur coat in a sleigh full of robes passed the window. I was going home after all!

When one thinks of 12 miles now, it is in terms of motor cars and means only a few minutes. It was different then, and I’ll never forget that ride. The bells made a merry jingle, and the fur robes were warm but the weather was growing colder and the snow was drifting so that the horses must break their way thru the drifts.

We were facing the strong wind, and every little while he, who later became the “man of the place,” must stop the team, get out in the snow, and by putting his hands over each horse’s nose in turn, thaw the ice from them where the breath had frozen over their nostrils. Then he would get back into the sleigh and on we’d go until once more the horses could not breathe for the ice.

When we reached the journey’s end, it was 40 degrees below zero, the snow was blowing so thickly that we could not see across the street and I was so chilled that I had to be half carried into the house. But I was home for Christmas and cold and danger were forgotten.

Such magic there is in Christmas to draw the absent ones home and if unable to go in the body the thoughts will hover there! Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred and we are better thruout the year for having become a child again at Christmas-time.

“As a Farm Woman Thinks (33)”  by Laura Ingalls Wilder, published in The Missouri Ruralist, December 15, 1924

A Santa Claus went from San Francisco to the battle front in France carrying with him more than $600 worth of presents for the French soldiers. This Santa Claus was Alphonse Gabriel Nicole. When the war began he was a waiter in one of San Francisco’s restaurants. He went at once to Europe and has fought in the French army ever since. He has been wounded twice and wears a cross given him by the French government for bravery in battle.

Alphonse was in the battle of the Marne, the battle of the Somme and at Verdun. Once he was buried beneath the ground for 40 minutes and at another time he was hurled into the air and fell to the ground unconscious where he remained for some time apparently dead.

After three years of fighting he was given a 30 days furlough and permission to spend the time with his friends in San Francisco. During his stay in San Francisco, Alphonse was persuaded to tell in public of the life of the soldiers and of his experiences in the war. He made several speeches to large audiences and, because of the sympathy he aroused for the French soldiers and his habit of wishing they might enjoy the good things that were making his visit so pleasant, his friends decided they would supply him with some gifts to take back with him for the soldiers over there.

The idea was given a little publicity in the papers with the result that besides donated gifts, $600 was raised for the purchase of other gifts. Alphonse went back to the battle front loaded with presents for his poorly paid, ill-fed comrades; happy because he can, in this way, share with them his visit home.

Alphonse says it is a different world over there, a world of kindness and friendship where people do things as a matter of course for each other, which would be thought very remarkable in any but a war world. He says, “My friend saves my life today and I save his life tomorrow and nothing is thought of it and always we share with each other.” Friendship is not just a name over there. It means braving danger for, suffering for, and sharing with one’s friends. Alphonse could not have been happy with the good things showered upon him during his visit unless he had known he could share them with his soldier friends.

And so amid the awfulness of war, we find the spirit of loving and giving which three terrible years of fighting at the front has not killed but greatly strengthened. It certainly gives us cause to believe in the ultimate triumph of that spirit, if only we who stay at home can stand the test as well.

How will we be affected by the stress and strain, the anxiety and perhaps the grief which we must go thru together? Will struggle brighten and strengthen our good qualities as it has those of Alphonse and his soldier friends of France? Will our feeling of comradeship grow until we cannot be happy unless others share the good things which we enjoy and until we will do the helpful thing for friend and neighbor as a matter of course?

If when anyone is in difficulty we would all help instead of taking advantage of the situation; if when trouble comes to those we know, we would do our utmost to make it lighter instead of gossiping unkindly about it; and if we would not be satisfied until we had passed a share of our happiness on to other people, what a world we could make!

When our soldiers come home from the “war world” of which Alphonse has told, what a delightful surprise it would be for them if they should find themselves at home in a world of that kind — where the loving and sharing and good comradeship reached all year around.

“Santa Claus at the Front”  by Laura Ingalls Wilder, published in The Missouri Ruralist, January 20, 1918