FRESH ORANGES

The winter of 1925 was a tough one for my mother, Clara Mary Wickenheiser.  She lived on a small farm, so there was meat, eggs and vegetables from the garden to eat.  Her Ma could squeeze a penny three ways before she spent it, saved every piece of string, button, paper scraps and cloth to reuse or repurpose. Her Pa worked the farm and at Kahlbaum Brothers Grain Mill.  The growing family celebrated Clara’s 7^th birthday on December 10, 1925, and the family began to prepare for Christmas.  The Advent candles would have been lit, the decorations made and put up, and the children tucked up into bed to wait for the big day.

The family went to Mass to celebrate the birth of Christ, came home to a good breakfast, and finally the parlor doors opened.  Mom told me about that Christmas.  She remembered the children getting fresh, juicy oranges to savor, and she got a new, never used pencil.  What a treasure.  I can just see that skinny little girl with blonde braids and a homemade dress enjoying that orange, catching every drip down her chin lest any went to waste. What a treat! 

The new pencil was proudly taken to school when classes resumed in January.  At first, she carried it back and forth every day to keep it safe, but began to be forgetful, and left it at school one fateful day.  Then tragedy struck.

At 4 am on May 20, 1926 the alarm was sounded.  The school was on fire!  The priest, the sisters, neighbors, parishioners and firemen battled the blaze.   As the school continued to burn, the convent roof caught fire, but it was extinguished before too much damage was done.  Mom’s pencil and the school were gone.

She told me this story over 50 years later.  That orange and pencil were very happy memories for Mom.  Games, toys and dolls were not something the children received very often. The small gifts they were given meant the world to them. They were raised to appreciate what they had.  She was raised with love, prayer , strong faith, and sense of family.  Her eight siblings remained friends till the end of their lives. Always staying close, those children passed that faith and family down to their children.  It was a wonderful heritage to pass down to us.

the school that burned in 1926

 

And here is a bit of history to go along with the story.  The new St Patrick School was almost a replica of the one that burned. The arches over the windows were left off except for two large windows in the front of the building. It is still filled with school children every day!

The children who attended in 1926 were sent to area public schools.  My Mom and her brother Larry went to Streit School until St Pat’s was rebuilt.  It was near their home and filled the gap for many of the parish children. I don’t know, but I imagine they had some sort of religious education classes, perhaps on Saturday to make up for the religion classes they were missing at the public school.  Uncle Larry was about 9 years old,   Mom was 8 years old. The younger siblings were not pictured. 

the rebuilt school.  notice the lack of the false dormer on the roof

Class photo. The child in front is holding a placard that says Streit School, Sept 15, 1926.  Mom is the seated girl in the front. Her brother Larry is the second boy from the left in the middle row.

Clara Mary Wickenheiser. 1926