Christmas Eve at the Rabbit Patch | Eastern North Carolina Now

    Publisher's note: Please join me in welcoming Author Michele Rhem, who presents us with her poignant memoirs of the Rabbit Patch, where her diaries weave tales of a simpler, expressive life lost to many, but gathered together in her most familiar environs - the Rabbit Patch.

    Christmas eve morning is here . . and with it rain. I woke to the sound of rain and it was lovely. I wished it were snow. ( Just a light friendly snow that would not hinder anyones' progress) None the less, it is the magical eve of Christmas, and rain will suit me fine. I couldn't complain today, if I wanted to, for I especially love Christmas eve. Besides, the holiday lights still twinkle, and the kitchen smells like Christmas fare. The table, will be adorned with the Christmas china, and most importantly-my loved ones will gather around it.

    When the rain breaks, I will gather pine-enough that you smell it when walking in. Paired with the apples and oranges, the smell of Christmas will be prevalent. My oldest sons, Brant and Tres will drive in from Wilmington today-and Mama and Daddy will join us for a Christmas eve supper. I am already cooking and clean linens are on the beds. I have a lot of floors to scrub, that will immediately be tracked with dirt and mud, when everyone comes in. The dogs will be bathed at the last moment and candles will be lit-especially the one in the "welcome home" lantern at the back door. The boys will not have wrapped a single present and so I am always on alert to begin that task in the late hours.

    I did not get back to the rabbit patch, til well after dark. yesterday. I drove back in muted light, which was a far cry better than the drive going, in the rain. I had to stop by the grocery store, and there in lies the culprit of my late arrival, home. To complicate matters, I was undecided about what dishes to bring to the gathering on Christmas night, at the home of my parents. It must have shown, as a young man asked if he could help me. I decided to make "Aunt Agnes' apple salad" and the cheddar garlic biscuits, my niece, Hayley, loves. The check out lines were full, more than I have ever seen them int the small town. When I became the next to check out, the gentleman in front of me, promptly, dropped a gallon of milk which exploded upon impact. Now, there really is no merit to "crying over spilt milk" and so I became last in the next line, without holding a grudge. The man that dropped it was full of distress and there was no need to add to it.

    In the Afternoon

    What a commotion, there was in the old farmhouse-and it lasted til just past one. Finally, at long last, the floors were scrubbed and the scent of fresh pine lingered in the air. Cash had a bath and candles were lit. What lovely moments, when all is ready and the children due to arrive.

    I lit the "welcome home" lantern and thought, Christmas eve is a lovely time.

    Dear Readers of the rabbit patch diary, I can not thank you enough for the gifts of kind and encouraging words, you leave me. So many times, I am moved to tears at the sight of them. How generous you all are. As big as this world is, you all have a way of making it a cozy and friendly place. Thank you, with all my heart. Merry, merry Christmas . . . love Michele