The Fillies welcome Laura Ashwood and her fun post about handmade Christmas gifts in time’s past. Don’t miss her giveaway further down.
Whittled, Woven, and Wrapped in Western Love
Can you feel it? That crispness in the air that whispers of winter and the festive times just around the corner. It’s got me all wrapped up in thoughts of those simple, heartfelt holidays of yesteryear. You know, the kind where every gift had a touch of personal charm because it was made by hand, with love woven into every fiber and stitch, along with a sprinkle of family tradition. Let’s take a moment to appreciate the art of homemade gifts that might have been crafted by the characters we adore.
Picture a cozy homestead, the fireplace crackling as a family gathers to celebrate the season. There, on the mantle, rests a hand-quilted throw, each patch a different color, each thread a different memory. Quilting was more than a pastime; it was a way to tell a story, a way to keep a family’s history alive. A mother might have spent months stitching together a quilt for her daughter or daughter-in-law – a symbol of her love and prayers for warmth and comfort in the years to come.
In the kitchen, the scent of cinnamon and sugar mingles with the earthy smell of pine. Jars of preserves line the shelves, each one filled with the fruits of summer’s labor. These jars are not just food; they’re a reminder of sunny days and the laughter that echoed through the fields as families worked side by side. Gifting a jar of homemade jam or pickles was like sharing a piece of the summer gone by, a sweet taste of the past to savor during the long winter months.
And how about the simple yet profound act of candle making? In a time when electric lights were a novelty, candles were a necessity. Making candles from beeswax or tallow was a way to ensure that the light of the family’s love would continue to shine, even on the darkest nights.
Not all gifts were practical, of course. Some were purely for the joy they brought. A father might whittle a small toy for his child, creating it from a piece of wood with his own hands, imagining the smile it would bring to his little one’s face. Or a young man might pen a poem for the girl who had captured his heart, pouring his feelings onto the page in the hope that his words might convey what he may not have had the courage to speak out loud.
In those times, every gift told a story, every gift was a prayer. They were tokens of affection, crafted not just with hands but with hearts full of love and hope. As we look for ways to share our love with those dear to us this holiday season, perhaps we can take inspiration from the past. Maybe we can find joy in the simple act of creating something with our own hands, something that says, “I love you,” in a way that words or a store-bought gift never could.
In my own book, A Groom for Ruby, Ruby has opened her heart and home to an orphaned child name Everett. Everett has never experienced the joys of Christmas. As Ruby shares As Ruby shares Bible stories with him, Everett becomes captivated by the tale of Noah’s ark. Moved by Everett’s wonder, Cullen, with skilled hands and a generous heart, crafts a miniature ark complete with hand-whittled animals, creating not just a gift, but a cherished memory.
I’d love to give one of you a signed paperback copy of A Groom for Ruby. Simply leave a comment and tell me the most memorable gift you have either made or received. I can’t wait to hear your stories.
Buy link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08S6YBQPM?tag=pettpist-20/
Website: http://www.lauraashwood.com
Hi Everyone! My name is Laura Ashwood and I’m writing to you from the chilly state of Minnesota. Having grown up in North Dakota/Minnesota I am no stranger to the occasional winter blizzard, but I’ve thankfully never been through anything like the Schoolhouse Blizzard of 1888.
southeast Nebraska. That afternoon, rain moved in and temperatures began to drop. During the night, the wind picked up and by morning eighteen inches of heavy, wet snow had fallen. The storm raged for two more days, finally abating on Wednesday, April 17. Drifts as high as 20 feet had accumulated in some areas. Many people perished, including a woman with an infant that died just feet from her home, along with thousands of head of livestock.
This is my second historical romance. One of the things I strive for when I write historical is to make sure that I get as much accurate detail for the time period as I can. In my story, A Groom for Ruby, Cullen Parker has a dark past before he ends up in Last Chance. I got to research such things as train robberies, stagecoach robberies, gold mines, and place like Dodge City and San Francisco. Much of that research doesn’t make it into the book, but I love being able to work in some of that information.