nevertheless, who am I to deny you?” She went to a trunk at the far end of the room and opened it. “I have some nice red wool here that should do the trick. I dyed it myself just a few weeks back.” She pulled out several skeins. “This should be enough. Will you knit or crochet?”
Faith pondered that a moment. “Crochet. I’m faster with a crochet hook, and I only have tonight and tomorrow in which to get this done.”
“I could help,” her mother offered.
“Would you?”
“Of course. All of my Christmas gifts are complete. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on giving yours because you didn’t have time.”
Faith frowned and felt embarrassed. “It’s not a Christmas gift. Not really. I just knew he was cold. I would have offered him my scarf, but it’s terribly feminine.”
Her mother shook her head. “No matter what kind of gift it is, if we don’t get to work, we’ll never have it done by the time you leave on Saturday.”
“You are right, as usual.” Faith took one of the skeins and marveled at its softness. “This is so fine and lovely.”
“Yes, but it’s good thick wool and will make a perfect protection from the damp air. Come now, we’ll go to my sewing room and get you a hook. Your father will be busy helping Alex with the Christmas cider, so we’ll have some time before our evening celebration.”
Faith had a quarter of the scarf complete by the time Father returned and announced it was time to gather at the Armistead house. The Kenner home sat on the same farm property but a decent distance from the big house. Faith had grown up this way, with all her cousins and family close at hand. The exception, of course, had been Aunt Mercy’s children, Isaac and Constance, but even they often came to spend the long summer months on the farm. Mama used to say it was to remind them that they were white as well as part Cherokee. Uncle Adam’s mother had been half Cherokee, and Faith had heard the stories of her life’s difficulties. Uncle Adam had thought that describing to Faith what another woman of Indian heritage had gone through might help her decide how to live her life. It had. It had terrified Faith to hear how that very Native-looking woman had been treated. Few women would have anything to do with her, and the men called her a squaw. No one considered Adam’s mother and father legally married, and they considered Adam and his siblings illegitimate. Only in leaving for other parts of the country and saying nothing about their Indian blood had the children been able to live normal lives. Faith supposed it had influenced her own decision to embrace the privilege that came with looking more white than Cayuse.
If anyone were to ask Faith later what she remembered most about this particular Christmas Eve celebration, she would say the laughter. Everyone was in a jolly spirit. There were letters to share from all the absent family members and no lack of stories from the old days.
After the family shared an incredible supper of roasted deer, creamed peas and potatoes, squash, baked ham, and so many other traditional family dishes, they gathered in the living room to sample the mulled cider and sweet desserts.
Uncle Alex opened the Bible, as was the tradition, and began to read from Luke one, verse twenty-six. “And in the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent from God unto a city of Galilee, named Nazareth, to a virgin espoused to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David; and the virgin’s name was Mary. And the angel came in unto her, and said, Hail, thou that art highly favoured, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women.”
He continued reading, but Faith let her thoughts wander. She had heard this story every year of her life. She had always loved and marveled at the wonder of it, and despite the very different circumstances, she always thought of her mother finding herself with child. No husband. No hope of explaining her situation in a way that would leave her with a shred of dignity or pride. Perhaps that was part of Mary’s journey too. No one ever talked in the Bible about her encounters with those who thought her shameful. And who could blame them? An unmarried girl found herself with child. There were no accounts of her making