"O Tannenbaum" or "O Christmas Tree" is a German Christmas song. Based on a traditional folk song which was unrelated to Christmas, it became associated with the traditional Christmas tree by the middle of the 19th century and sung as a Christmas carol.
The modern lyrics were written in 1824 by the Leipzig organist, teacher and composer Ernst Anschütz. A Tannenbaum is a fir tree. The lyrics do not actually refer to Christmas, or describe a decorated Christmas tree. Instead, they refer to the fir's evergreen quality as a symbol of constancy and faithfulness.
Anschütz based his text on a 16th-century Silesian folk song by Melchior Franck, "Ach Tannenbaum". August Zarnack in 1819 wrote a tragic love song inspired by this folk song, taking the evergreen, "faithful" fir tree as contrasting with a faithless lover. The folk song first became associated with Christmas with Anschütz, who added two verses of his own to the first, traditional verse. The custom of the Christmas tree developed in the course of the 19th century, and the song came to be seen as a Christmas carol. Anschütz's version still had treu (true, faithful) as the adjective describing the fir's leaves (needles), harking back to the contrast to the faithless maiden of the folk song. This was changed to grün (green) at some point in the 20th century, after the song had come to be associated with Christmas.
Oh Christmas Tree in English
O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree! How are thy leaves so verdant! Not only in the summertime, But even in winter is thy prime. O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, How are thy leaves so verdant! O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, Much pleasure dost thou bring me! For ev’ry year the Christmas tree, Brings to us all both joy and glee. O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, Much pleasure dost thou bring me! O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, How lovely are thy branches! Not only green when summer's here But in the coldest time of year. O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, How lovely are thy branches! O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, How sturdy God hath made thee! Thou bidds't us all place faithfully Our trust in God, unchangingly! O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, How sturdy God hath made thee! O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, Thy candles shine out brightly! Each bough doth hold its tiny light, That makes each toy to sparkle bright. O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, Thy candles shine out brightly!
This Christmas ornament clip art by Rose O'Neill was cleaned and colorized by Kathy Grimm. Please read the Terms of Use before printing it out for personal crafts only.
We Want to Fly About Your Christmas Tree
Designed by Rose O'Neill
Cut out the backs and fronts of the Flying Kewpies, join them together, inserting a loop of red string or ribbon in the topknot before it dries. Lay under a weight.
Hang the Flying Kewpies by their loops from the twigs of your Christmas tree. Be sure to wait till the paste is perfectly dry or the strings will come out and Kewpies fall.
The Kewpies love to fly in the green branches of a Christmas tree, among the glittering bells and the shiny tinsel and the children's legs. Pop! goes Kewpie Army's gun as he shoots at a Teddy Bear. Kewpie Cook feels gay, for he's seen some dolly cookies and he means to get the recipe for the Kewpies.
The flying Kewpies never have such good times anywhere else as they have in a Christmas tree. They skip and caper, dance and prance, and gurgle and grin so gleefully that all little boys and girls, babies and grown ups who see them and even the stuffed animals and the jumping jacks who see them laugh too.
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It was away back in the time of Alexander the Great that Germany was made known to the civilized world by an adventurous sailor named Pytheas, a man of more than ordinary talent, who was sailing northward and discovered a land inhabited by a then unknown people. He reported his discovery to the Romans, but the difficulty was that Pytheas had seen so much more than any of the Greeks or Romans of those days that they utterly refused to believe his statements. Time has proved that the sailor was nearer right in many of his apparently visionary statements than his countrymen dreamed, although it has taken centuries to prove the fact in some cases.
The people whom Pytheas then introduced to the polite world were Teutons, a branch of the great Aryan race and closely related to the early English. The men were simple, truthful, and brave, but were sadly addicted to drink, it was said, and consequently were often quarrelsome. The women were much like those of to-day in their characteristics: virtuous, proud, and dignified; very beautiful, with golden-hued hair, blue eyes, and fresh, fair complexions. Like most of the early peoples, the Teutons worshiped gods and goddesses, and so have many customs and traditions in common with other branches of the Aryans,
If England has enjoyed the merriest Yule-tides of the past, certainly Germany enjoys the merriest of the present, for in no other country is the day so fully and heartily observed. It is the great occasion of the year and means much to the people.
For a week or more before the day, loads of evergreen trees of all sizes may be seen coming into the cities and towns to be piled up in squares and open places until the entire place looks like a forest of small firs. One wonders where they all come from and for how many years the supply will last, but it is not likely to fail at present.
Toy-making in Germany. How the rough figures are chipped from the wooden
ring coming from the cross-section of a tree.
The Lutherans gave Martin Luther the credit of introducing the Christmas tree into Germany. He may have helped to make it popular, but certainly there is abundant evidence to prove that it was known long before the Reformer's time. It is generally supposed to have its origin in mythological times and to be a vestige of the marvelous tree, Yggdrasil.
Possibly Martin Luther thought of the old story of the tree and imagined, as he traveled alone one cold night, how pretty the snow-laden fir-trees along his path would look could they be lighted by the twinkling stars overhead. But whether he had anything to do with it or not, the tree is now one of the most important features of Yule-tide among the Germans of all denominations.
Nearly ten million households require one or two trees each Christmas, varying in height from two to twenty feet. Societies provide them for people who are too poor to buy them, and very few are over-looked at this happy holiday season.
The grand Yule-tide festival is opened on the eve of St. Nicholas Day, December sixth; in fact bazaars are held from the first of the month, which is really one prolonged season of merrymaking.
In Germany, St. Nicholas has a day set apart in his honor. He was born in Palara, a city of Lycia, and but very little is known of his life except that he was made Bishop of Myra and died in the year 343. It was once the custom to send a man around to personate St. Nicholas on St. Nicholas Eve, and to inquire how the children had behaved through the year, who were deserving of gifts, and who needed a touch of the birch rods that he carried with him into every home. St. Nicholas still goes about in some parts of the country, and in the bazaars and shops are sold little bunches of rods, real or made of candy, such as St. Nicholas is supposed to deal in. In some places Knight Rupert takes the place of St. Nicholas in visiting the houses. But Kriss Kringle has nearly usurped the place St. Nicholas once held in awe and respect by German children.
Because St. Nicholas Day came so near to Christmas, in some countries the Saint became associated with that celebration, although in Germany the eve of his birthday continues to be observed. Germans purchase liberally of the toys and confectionery offered at the bazaars, and nowhere are prettier toys and confectionery found than in Germany the country which furnishes the most beautiful toys in the world.
From the palace to the hut, Yule-tide is a season of peace, rest, joy, and devotion. For three days, that is the day before Christmas, Christmas, and the day after known as Boxing-day all business not absolutely necessary to the welfare of the community is suspended. Stores, markets, and bazaars present a festive appearance ; the young girl attendants are smiling and happy, and every one seems in the best of humor.
Many of the poorer class of Germans do not eat much meat, but at Christmas all indulge in that extravagance, so the markets are unusually crowded. They all like to purchase a plant or a flower for Christmas and the flower stores are marvels of beauty and sweetness.
Every one is busy preparing for the great occasion. Grown folks become children again in the simplicity of their enjoyment and enter into the excitement with as much enthusiasm as do the children.
Newspapers are not generally published during the three days of business suspension, for no one would have time or interest to read them at such a season.
In many places churches are open during the week before Christmas, for with all the bustle and excitement incident to the preparations, the people, young and old, are filled with a deep spirit of devotion, and never for an instant forget the significance of the occasion they commemorate.
Churches are not trimmed nor are they made attractive with flowers, songs, or in any special way, but the people go to listen with devotion to the telling of the old, old story of Christ's birthday and of the first Holy Night at Bethlehem.
The day before Christmas all are busy trimming up their homes and preparing for the great day. Usually the mother of the household trims the tree, not admitting any other member of the curious and expectant family into the room. Tables are provided for holding the gifts, as every one in the family is expected to make a gift to every other member, and it is surprising to note the interest taken in these simple gifts often a soap-rose, an artificial flower, knitted lace, even sausages, cheese, or butter and with each and all the ever-present Christmas cake. It is spiced and hard, cut into every manner of device men, women, animals, stars, hearts, etc. The Pfeffer Kuchen (pepper cakes) or some similar cakes are to be seen everywhere at Christmas time.
The gifts are often accompanied with short verses, good, bad, or indifferent, according to the talent of the giver, but all serve to make the occasion merry. In some families these simple inexpensive gifts are so carefully kept that collections may be seen of gifts received by different members of the family since their infancy.
On Christmas Eve the guests assemble early, and by six o'clock a signal is given for the door of the mysterious room to be opened to admit the family to the tree:
"O Hemlock tree ! O Hemlock-tree ! how faith-
ful are thy branches !
Green not alone in summer time,
But in the winter's frost and rime!
O Hemlock-tree ! O Hemlock-tree! how faith-
ful are thy branches !"
It is ablaze with tiny lighted tapers and radiant with shiny tinsel cut in pretty devices or in thread-like strips. Bright balls, gay toys, and paper flowers help to enhance its beauty, and sometimes scenes from sacred history are arranged with toys at the base of the tree.
With the distribution of the gifts the fun begins; each person is expected to kiss every other person present arid help make the occasion a merry one.
Holy Night, or, as the Germans term it, Weihnachtthe Night of Dedication- is the time of family reunions, fun, and frolic. Not alone in homes, hospitals, prisons, barracks, and elsewhere is the pretty betinseled tree to be seen on Christmas, but in burying-grounds, on the resting-places of the dead, stand these fresh green trees in evidence of keeping the loved one's memory green.
While the custom of having a tree is universal throughout Germany, and from thence has been introduced into other countries, there are many customs peculiar to certain sections. In some of the little out-of-the-way places in the Tyrolese Alps the old-time Miracle Plays are enacted in a most primitive manner. As the peasants rarely, if ever, attend the theatre or have any opportunity to see a modern play, this occasion attracts them from far and near. Where is the theatre, who are the actors, do you ask? The theatre is the largest place available, sometimes a large room, sometimes a barn, anything that will accommodate the crowd that is sure to come. In one description of a play given on Christmas Day it is stated that the people assembled in a barn belonging to the vicarage to witness the Paradise Play. The top of a huge pottery stove at least five feet high served for the throne of God the Father, the stove being hidden by screens painted to represent clouds. The play " began at the beginning," at Chaos. A large paper screen bedecked with a profusion of suns, moons, stars, and comets formed a background, while in front sprawled a number of boys in tights with board wings fastened to their shoulders to represent angels. The language was as simple and primitive as the scenery, yet for the credulous, devout peasants " no distance is too great, no passes too steep or rough, no march on dusty highroads too fatiguing, if a Miracle or Passion Play is their goal."
Does it seem sacrilegious? Not to those who attend it in the spirit of humility and devotion, as do these Tyrolese peasants. In some places plays are given in churches on Christmas as they were formerly in England, but these are not common, and are only found in remote places. Throughout this country there is always a church service in the morning which is very generally attended, Protestants and Catholics alike making Christmas the day of all the year in which they attend church.
The name Christmas probably originated from the order that was given for saying mass (called Christ-mass) for the sins of the people on the day that commemorates the Saviour's Birth.
One beautiful feature of a German Christmas is the wide-spread thought for the poor and the interest taken in them. Many wealthy families have charge of a certain number of poor families, and on Christmas Day invite them to their own luxurious homes to receive gifts and enjoy the tree prepared for them. An address, prayer, and song as they stand around the tree precedes the distribution of gifts, usually of clothing and food, with which the guests fill the bags and baskets they bring with them. And for all there is an abundance of Pfeffer Kuchen, or some other Christmas cake.
In the midst of all the excitement of lighted tree and pretty gifts, German children seldom forget to return thanks for what they receive. They are taught that all these gifts come through the Christ-child, and that the occasion is not for selfish enjoyment but to give pleasure to others, and that no one is too poor to give kindly thought and pleasant words to those around them.
In some parts of Germany Lorraine is one the people burn the Yule-log; sometimes a huge log that will last through the three days' festivity, sometimes one so small that the family sit before it until it is all consumed. Sometimes a part of the log is suspended from the ceiling of the room and each person present blows at it hoping to make a spark fall on some watching face; then again some carry a piece of the log to bed with them to protect them from lightning. But the Yule-log is not very generally known in this land of great pottery stoves and closed fireplaces, and that may be one reason why post wagons go rumbling about at Christmas time, carrying parcels from place to place and from door to door, blowing their post-horns continuously, instead of the parcels being dropped down chimneys by Santa Glaus.
It is customary, also, in some parts of the country, for the people and their animals to fast the day before Christmas. At midnight the people attend church and it is said that the cattle kneel; then both man and beast partake of a hearty meal. There are places in the German Alps where it is believed that the cattle are blessed with the gift of language for a while on Christmas Eve, but as it is a very great sin to listen, no one has yet reported any conversation among them. In another part of the country it is thought that the Virgin Mary with a company of angels passes over the land on Holy Night, and so tables are spread with the best the larders afford and candles are lighted and left burning that the angelic visitors may find abundant food should they chance to stop on their way.
Boxing-day, when boxes prepared for the poor are distributed, follows the Holy Day and after that business is resumed, although festivities do not cease.
Sylvester, or New Year's Eve, is the next occasion to be observed during Yule-tide. The former name was given in honor of the first pope of that name, and still retained by many. After the usual church service in the early evening, the intervening hours before midnight are spent in the most boisterous merriment. Fun of all sorts within the limit of law and decency prevails. Any one venturing forth wearing a silk hat is in danger of having his hat, if not his head, smashed. " Hat off," cries the one who spies one of these head-coverings, and if the order is not instantly obeyed, woe betide the luckless wearer. At midnight all Germany, or at least all in the cities and the larger towns, may be seen out-of-doors or leaning from windows, waiting for the bells to ring out the Old Year and welcome in the New. At first stroke of the bells there arises one universal salute of Prosit Neujahr (Happy New Year).
It is all good-natured fun, a wild, exuberant farewell to the Old Year the closing scene of the joyous Yule-tide. by Mary P. Pringle and Clara A. Urann
See a contemporary Christmas in Germany with Olga and Ehsan. "Olga from Belarus and Ehsan from Iran have a closer look at typical
German Christmas customs. (by Maël Frize). More Information about
studying and living in Germany on our Website www.study-in,de."
Less than $2, property expended, will decorate the Christmas tree beautifully in a novel fashion and give no end of pleasure.
The chief thing to consider is the color and effect. The materials employed are really secondary. There will, of course, be a cobwebby mass of loose silver tinsel coiled in and out and over the tree in a bewildering labyrinth and strings of popcorn, holly berries and cranberries. Tradition demands their use in connection with the novel ornaments.
Small and inexpensive souvenirs of Japanese lanterns and opened parasols will give a unique touch of Oriental color to the Christmas tree. From every available tip tiny bells, hearts, stars, guitars, banjos and papier mache animals, such as rabbits, donkeys and reindeers, should be suspended.
If desired the animals may be of cake, as moulds are made especially for this purpose. The stars and hearts may be cut from bristol board and given a coat of glue, then dipped in mica or metallic flock.
A children's Christmas party 100 years ago.
Small red and green apples may be used to good advantage for decorative purposes by sticking them with tiny crepe paper flags. They should be suspended from the boughs by braids of red, white and blue paper.
Walnuts, hickory nuts, peanuts, pine cones, etc., will help the decorative scheme also if they are gilded. The best thing to accomplish this result is smalt, which is kept by paint dealers, and comes in gold, silver and all the metallic shades.
First, dissolve a cake of glue in boiling water, place a tack in the end of the nut or object to be immersed, dip in the liquid glue, roll in the smalt and dry. Later, when ready to suspend from the tree, attach bright red ribbon to the gilded track and hang in some of the places that look bare.
Another novelty which will please the children is to take the shells of the walnut, split so they will be intact, remove the meats, gild or silver the empty shells, then place a tiny doll, candy or motto inside and tie with bright-colored baby ribbon.
It is almost impossible to have too many objects for trimmings, as the tree is like a yawning chasm--hard to fill.
Little Chinese dolls, dangling by their queues, and Japanese lads and lassies, peering furtively out from among green boughs, will create a great deal of amusement for the Occidental boys and girls whose eyes are eagerly fixed on the tree. Milkmaids, Jack Horners, Brownies (these are fairies, folks), gnomes and fairies will also be an attraction and they may serve as bonbon receptacles as well. (bonbons are candies)
To make a milkmaid, for instance, use bristle board and shape in an oblong round box. Fit a bit of pasteboard for a bottom and make a cover likewise. Fill with candies and nuts. Then take an ordinary bisque doll, which may be purchased at any 10-cent store, break off the legs and glue the body to the box. Next proceed to dress the little doll in a diaphanous crepe paper gown of some dainty color.
One of the latest novelties for these doll bonbon boxes is to dress them in evening gowns, en train and decollete, adding a picture hat, a wrap and boa in some contrasting shade. Black accessories are very fashionable for these tiny dolls. Another pretty idea is to make tiny closed parasols of crepe paper, glued to a toothpick and fasten in the hand of the little milady-a simple matter, as a trial will convince. Plumes for the hats are made by slashing a strip of folded paper, curling the fringe over a toothpick and plaiting on the hat. Muffs, too, are beautifully fashioned out of paper, with a bunch of tiny violets added for trimming.
A useful gift which will help to make the tree look pretty is the twine doll, dressed handsomely in crepe papers-pink and black, red and yellow, yellow and black or blue and black, with hat to match and white paper petticoats. Quite a good-sized doll will be needed for this novelty, at least a fourteen-inch one. Break the legs off close to the body and glue the body to a twine receptacle in which is a ball of twine. The costume will, of course, need to be voluminous.
Little pixies can be made to peer out of unexpected nooks and the tree. (mischievous spirits or elves) They, too, are made of small bisque dolls about six inches long, fastened on an oval piece of cardboard three inches in diameter for a standard. This cardboard should be covered with crepe paper, which may conceal several layers of felt or chamois skin for a pen wiper. Lavender and white paper with plenty of gilding will give a beautiful effect.
Shaving balls made of tissue papers in dainty colors and immense fluffy balls to which are fastened loops of paper ribbon with bows are useful gifts and unique for tree trimmings.
Electric light shades made in the shape of an enormous cabbage rose, yellow for instance, with two buds dangling and an abundance of green leaves against the wire frame, will serve as lovely Christmas tree decorations.
1904 postcard.
Still another cleaver idea for the tree which will be used as trimming first and gifts second, are hatpin holders, which are made of empty talcum powder boxes. Remove the top and stretch a piece of tarletan across it. Fasten securely, then "dress" the box in crepe paper, making a double frill at the top. to trim make a pond lily or rose with a bud, leaving the long stem to wind gracefully around the box. Fasten the blossom securely in front and the useful ornament is finished. Women who are forced to stab hatpins in cushions or leave them loosely in their dresser drawer because of no better place to put them will appreciate such a gift, trifling at it is.
There was a time when ugly chains were made of paper and looped on the trees. Nowadays, instead of the barbarity, beautiful tissue and crepe papers are fashioned into garlands, fans, parasols, horns and such gifts as are described in the foregoing.
One of the prettiest suggestions for distributing the smaller gifts is to have them imbedded in artificial oranges. This may be done with either muslin or paper, and though many of the articles will not fit the receptacles they can be made to do so by a little padding with cotton or tissue paper. Orange-colored crepe paper makes the most realistic oranges. They are not only pleasing to the children as novelties, but add greatly to the appearance of the tree itself. They should be suspended by orange satin ribbon or by braided lengths of crepe paper, which is more effective, to carry out the idea. When nestling among the dark green boughs of the tree they look exceedingly pretty and suggestive.
Some of the small packages may be converted into snowballs by wrapping the gifts in cotton batting and sprinkling with tinsel powder. If there are lights on the tree, the glittering snowballs will be the chief attraction to the animated little people.
A "Domino Tree" may be easily trimmed as follows: Make a layer cake. baking in a shallow tin. When the cake is cold, it should be cut into oblong pieces the shape and size of dominoes. A tin cutter can be purchased, or the tinner can make one. Dip the tiny cakes in a boiled icing, using toothpick "spears" to accomplish this result. When the icing is cold make the domino lines and dots with melted chocolate, using a toothpick for the purpose. Each domino may be tied separately to a tiny twig with red baby ribbon, or the cakes may be strung in loops. Several hundred of these goodies scattered about the tree will give a dazzling effect and please the little folks immensely.
Santa delivers oranges and other fruits during the 1800s.
He carries a plum pudding in his front sack.
Snowball cakes may be made by baking cup cakes which should be trimmed into shape, then iced generously several times and rolled in desiccated cocoanut. A toothpick spear may be thrust in each one to suspend it.
Attractive ornaments can be fashioned for the tree out of candies. For instance, make some glace with half a cup of water, one-fourth teaspoonful of cream of tartar and a half pound of loaf sugar. Boil until it thickens in cold water. Dip into this fresh rose or violet petals. Spread the glace thin in a pan and score it into butterflies' wings. Cut marshmallows into thin stripe for the bodice and press the wings into them. Next proceed to cover the white body with streaks and flecks of chocolate, dotting the wings with tinted fondant.
Other oddities in the shapes of dolls may be made of chocolate creams. Take one bonbon for the head and two more for the body. Each one should be speared by a toothpick. Pinch one side of the chocolate cream until it looks something like a nose. Cut out a piece on either side for eyes; make another slash for the mouth, then with a toothpick make imitation hair on the "Topsy." Dress in a crisp red paper gown, with a black sash, and suspend from the tree with black baby ribbon.
Artificial snow on the topmost branches of the tree will add to its wintry appearance. To make, dip bits of cotton into glue, then sprinkle with mica to imitate the sparkle.
The illumination of the tree is an important problem, for by the indiscreet use of candles many a joyous Christmas has been turned into one of mourning. Tiny Japanese lanterns are much safer then unshielded candles and the give a prettier effect. The small square lanterns with colored mica sides are also safe, for they have a sponge in the bottom that may be saturated with kerosene. (acckkkk. I just read this while typing!!!! Sorry, it made me jump.) When the wick is lighted it burns brightly and lasts longer then ordinary wax candles. (Don't even think about trying it.)
A pretty little ceremony may be participated in by the children before and after the distribution of the gifts. When everything is in readiness the little people (if still alive) are invited into the room and told to sing their welcome to Santa Claus, for, of course, the patron saint is expected. In the midst of the lively song. "Santa Claus Is Coming," good old Saint Nicholas appears on the scene, snow besprinkled and jolly, with a pack on his back and to the music of sleigh bells. The children salute him with "All hall! Good Santa Claus on this merry Christmas Eve."
Santa Claus responds cheerily and the distribution of the gifts proceeds. At the close of this part of the program Saint Nicholas says "Good night" to his subjects. At this signal the little people rush forward and surround the tree under which he stands. All Joining hands, they sing, "Jolly Old Saint Nicholas," and circle about the tree. After several lively Christmas songs they remain quiet about Saint Nicholas and sing their good night song, to which he responds with many bows of appreciation.
Wow, well now that was quite an article! It's been slightly edited, spelling corrected. A few mistakes in grammer have been tweeked, but for the most part, it's in tack. If you have any questions about the vocabulary and such ask it below. Because I know that some of my readers are looking for descriptions about antique Christmas decorations, I thought it would be fun to include some detailed articles on my family's Christmas blog this year.
"What do you see up there, O pine-tree?" asked a little vine in the forest. "You lift your head among the clouds tonight, and you tremble strangely as if you saw wondrous sights."
"I see only the distant hill-tops and the dark clouds," answered the pine-tree. "And the wind sings of the snow-king to-night; to all my questionings he says, 'Snow, snow, snow,' till I am wearied with his refrain."
"Oh, yes, said the vine. "I heard the country folks talking about it as they went through the forest today, and they said that the prince would surely come on the morrow."
"What are you little folks down there talking about?" asked the pine-tree.
"We are talking about the prince," said the vine.
"Yes, he is to come on the morrow," said the pine-tree, "but not until the day dawns, and it is still all dark in the east.
"Yes," said the fir-tree, "the east is black, and only the wind and the snow issue from it."
"Keep your head out of my way!" cried the pine-tree, to the fir; "with your constant bobbing around I can hardly see at all."
"Take that for your bad manners," retorted the fir, slapping the pine-tree savagely with one of her longest branches.
The pine-tree would put up with no such treatment, so he hurled his largest cone at the fir; and for a moment or two it looked as if there were going to be a serious commotion in the forest.
"Hush!" cried the vine in a startled tone; "there is some one coming through the forest."
The pine-tree and the fir stopped quarreling, and the snowdrop nestled closer to the vine, while the vine hugged the pine-tree very tightly. All were greatly alarmed.
"Nonsense!" said the pine-tree, in a tone of assumed braver. "No one would venture into the forest at such an hour."
"Indeed! and why not?" cried a child's voice. "Will you not let me watch with you for the coming of the prince?"
"Will you not tear me from my tree?" asked the vine.
"Will you not pluck my blossoms?" plaintively piped the snowdrop.
"No, of course not," said Barbara; "I have come only to watch with you for the prince."
Then Barbara told them who she was, and how cruelly she had been treated in the city, and how she longed to see the prince, who was to come on the morrow. And as she talked, the forest and all therein felt a great compassion for her.
"Lie at my feet," said the pine-tree, "and I will protect you."
"Nestle close to me, and I will chafe your temples and body and limbs till they are warm," said the vine.
"Let me rest upon your cheek, and I will sing you my little songs," said the snowdrop.
And Barbara felt very grateful for all these homely kindnesses. She rested in the velvety snow at the foot of the pine-tree, and the vine chafed her body and limbs, and the little flower sang sweet songs to her.
"Whirr-r-r, whirr-r-r!" There was that noisy wind again, but this time it was gentler than it had been in the city.
"Here you are, my little Barbara," said the wind, in kindly tones. "I have brought you the little snowflake. I am glad you came away from the city, for the people are proud and haughty there; oh, but I will have fun with them!"
Then, having dropped the little snowflake on Barbara's cheek, the wind whisked off to the city again. And we can imagine that it played rare pranks with the proud, haughty folk on its return; for the wind, as you know, is no respecter of persons.
"Dear Barbara," said the snowflake, "I will watch with thee for the coming of the prince."
And Barbara was glad, for she loved the little snowflake, that was so pure and innocent and gentle.
"Tell us, O pine-tree," cried the vine, "what do you see in the east? Has the prince yet entered the forest?"
"The east is full of black clouds," said the pine-tree, " and the winds that hurry to the hill-tops sing of the snow."
"But the city is full of brightness," said the fir. "I can see the lights in the cathedral, and I can hear wondrous music about the prince and his coming."
"Yes, they are singing of the prince in the cathedral," said Barbara sadly.
"But, we shall see him first, "whispered the vine reassuringly.
"Yes, the prince will come through the forest," said the little snowdrop gleefully.
"Fear not, dear Barbara, we shall behold the prince in all his glory," cried the snowflake.
Then all at once there was a strange hubbub in the forest; for it was midnight, and the spirits came from their hiding-places to prowl about and to disport themselves. Barbara beheld them all in great wonder and trepidation, for she had never before seen the spirits of the forest, although she had often heard of them. It was a marvelous sight.
"Fear nothing," whispered the vine to Barbara,-- "fear nothing, for they dare not touch you."
The antics of the wood-spirits continued but an hour; for then a cock crowed, and immediately thereat, with a wondrous scurrying, the elves and the gnomes and the other grotesque spirits sought their abiding-places in the caves and in the hollow trunks and under the loose bark of the trees. And then it was very quiet once more in the forest.
"It is very cold," said Barbara. "My hands and feet are like ice."
Then the pine-tree and the fir shook down the snow from their broad boughs, and the snow fell upon Barbara and covered her like a white mantle.
"You will be warm now," said the vine, kissing Barbara's forehead. And Barbara smiled.
Then the snowdrop sang a lullaby about the moss that loved the violet. And Barbara said, "I am going to sleep; will you wake me when the prince comes through the forest?"
And they said they would. So Barbara fell asleep.
"The bells in the city are ringing merrily," said the fir, " and the music in the cathedral is louder and more beautiful than before. Can it be that the prince has already come into the city?"
"No," cried the pine-tree, " look to the east and see the Christmas day a-dawning! The prince is coming, and his pathway is through the forest!"
The storm had ceased. Snow lay upon all the earth. The hills, the forest, the city, and the meadows were white with the robe the storm-king had thrown over them. Content with his wondrous work, the storm-king himself had fled to his far Northern home before the dawn of the Christmas day. Everything was bright and sparkling and beautiful. And most beautiful was the great hymn of praise the forest sang that Christmas morning,-- the pine-trees and the firs and the vines and the snow-flowers that sang of the prince and of his promised coming.
"Wake up, little one," cried the vine, "for the prince is coming!"
But Barbara slept; she did not hear the vine's soft calling nor the lofty music of the forest.
A little snow-bird flew down from the fir-tree's bough and perched upon the vine, and caroled in Barbara's ear of the Christmas morning and of the coming of the prince. But Barbara slept; she did not hear the carol of the bird.
"Alas!" sighed the vine, "Barbara will not awaken, and the prince is coming."
Then the vine and the snowdrop wept, and the pine-tree and the fir were very sad.
The prince came through the forest clad in royal raiment and wearing a golden crown. Angels came with him, and the forest sang a great hymn unto the prince, such a hymn as had never before been heard on earth. The prince came to the sleeping child and smiled upon her and called her by name.
"Barbara, my little one," said the prince, "awaken, and come with me."
Then Barbara opened her eyes and beheld the prince. And it seemed as if a new life had come to her, for there was warmth in her body and a flush upon her cheeks and a light in her eyes that were divine. And she was clothed no longer in rags, but in white flowing raiment; and upon the soft brown hair there was a crown like those which angels wear. And as Barbara arose and went to the prince, the little snowflake fell from her cheek upon her bosom, and forthwith became a pearl more precious than all other jewels upon earth.
And the prince took Barbara in his arms and blessed her, and turning round about, returned with the little child unto his home, while the forest and the sky and the angels sang a wondrous song.
The city waited for the prince, but he did not come. None knew of the glory of the forest that Christmas morning, nor of the new life that came to little Barbara.
Come thou, dear Prince, oh, come to us this holy Christmas time! Come to the busy marts of earth, the quiet homes, the noisy streets, the humble lanes; come to us all, and with thy love touch every human heart, that we may know that love, and in its blessed peace bear charity to all mankind! by Eugene Fields.
Christmas morning long ago. The children playing parlor games near the Christmas tree.
Christmas never brings San Francisco children any snow. Santa Claus has to leave his sleigh and reindeer behind him in the muddy roads, and take to his good stout legs in order to bring the little San Franciscans their toys and sweet- meats. Jack Frost makes few calls and very short stops, so that the boys and girls who live in the sunshine that rests upon the Golden Gate find it hard to understand the Eastern tradition of Christmas cold and Christmas snows. The fields and forests in their pure white robes, the cold star-lit heavens at night, the noon-day sun sparkling in a million tiny ice-crystals, the merry skaters on the frozen lake or river, the sleds hurtling down the long coast, the jingling sleigh bells, the images and forts and caves our young builders construct out of the thawing snow, - all these the San Francisco boy has never known.
It occasionally happens that a sudden snowfall on the mountains on the opposite side of the bay robes Monte Diablo and her sister ranges in a shimmering white veil, and the whole population of the city looks eagerly across the water at the novel and beautiful spectacle. And, once, years ago, a genuine snow-storm swept over San Francisco and made its people, young and old, wild with excitement and glee. It was comical to see staid old merchants and other grown-ups rush out, grasp handfuls of the frosty mixture and pelt each other with it, frolicking like a lot of New England schoolboys, while the San Francisco children, at first astonished and half-afraid at the unfamiliar sight, soon caught the contagion of the hour, and entered with enthusiasm into what would probably be their only opportunity to know the joys of a real winter. With shouts and laughter the boys tumbled about in the snow, improvised sleds, piled up mimic forts, pelted each other and the passers-by; in short, behaved much like the children of more frigid latitudes. The girls were quite as excited as the boys, romping and shouting in their glee, and snow-balling each other and their friends. The few workers who ventured out had a hard time of it. They were pelted and rolled in the snow-drifts until they looked more like Eskimos than Celestials.
But this was one experience in a life-time for a San Francisco child. In all its recorded history since the white man became a dweller by the Golden Gate this was the only occasion when a real snow-storm visited it, while it has never known a snowy Christmas. In December as in mid-summer the rose-bushes are covered with blossoms white and red, the climbing fuchsias swing their purple bells, smilax, heliotrope, geranium and calla lilies bloom in the garden. The poet E. R. Sill, looking at the floral loveliness of such a winter from his Berkeley windows fronting the Golden Gate, sings his wonder:
"Can this be Christmas? - Sweet as May,
With drowsy sun and dreamy air,
And new grass pointing out the way
For flowers to follow everywhere.
O wondrous gift, in goodness given,
Each hour anew our eyes to greet,
An earth so fair - so close to Heaven,
'Twas trodden by the Master's feet."
Once upon a time, a number of us, teachers in the Pilgrim Sunday-school of San Francisco, sat in conference and planned our coming Christmas festival. We had some four hundred children to provide for; as bright and happy a lot as ever were gathered within a Sunday-school.
Every year, a great Christmas festival was held in a public hall, to which the children and their friends were invited, and the proceeds of which paid nearly the entire expenses of the school for the ensuing year. We had about completed our arrangements. The tree, the gifts, the music, the tableaux, the addresses, the supper, all had been assigned to efficient committees. Only one feature remained for discussion, - the proper entrance and introduction of Santa Claus, who had never yet failed to appear at our feast. We had well-nigh exhausted, in previous years, the various possible methods of introducing the good old saint. One year, we had him pop up suddenly through a trap door on the stage; once, he came tumbling down a great chimney-piece; and, once again, he arrived just in the nick of time, and stood waving us a welcome high above our heads, from whence he climbed down nimbly on a rope, hand under hand, to the screaming delight of the children, but to the serious derangement of his pack and his stomach. But, now, we were at an end with our devices.
"I have it!" said Fred Gummer. "Let's stick to the old tradition, and have him dragged into the hall in a sleigh drawn by deer."
"But you forget," rejoined our wise-headed and devoted superintendent, Horace Davis, smiling behind his glasses, - "you forget that Santa always leaves his turn-out behind him, and trudges to San Francisco on foot."
"Very true," answered Fred; "but I know a mountaineer who has just brought to town two live deer. They are quite tame, and we can obtain their use for the evening. A neat sleigh, with little rollers hidden under the runners, can be built, and fitted up with buffalo robes, bells, etc.; thus equipped, Kriss Kringle can for once enter the hall in a state becoming his dignity."
All declared this to be a capital suggestion, and it was at once adopted.
"Now, if we could only arrange as easily for a snow-storm that evening," said Elizabeth Easton, one of our most loyal teachers, "the thing would be complete."
"And why not?" cried Charlie W.
"Leave that to me. I have a notion on the subject, and can promise you a genuine snowfall."
And to this also all agreed.
The next day, two or three of us, who had been let into the secret, went to a book-binder, and arranged for a large supply of the long and narrow clippings of paper which are shaved off in the process of making up a book. Then, at a Chinese employment office, we hired two stout gentlemen, who were set to work in an upper loft of a friend's store. Each person was furnished with a large pair of shears, glittering and sharp. As neither of them could understand a word of our language, with many gestures and grimaces they were instructed to sit by a huge heap of the paper clippings, and cut them into little pieces, or flakes, letting these fall into a packing-box before them. Both Hop Lee and Wo Fun stolidly set to work. They patiently snipped away all that day and the next, until their hands were too weary to hold the shears. It was not an inspiring task, but they performed it with religious exaltation and awe. For it is their custom to prepare such small bits of paper inscribed with sacred Chinese characters by their priests, and to throw them by handfuls into the air or burn them, in order to ward off the evil spirits which they believe are ever hovering about to do them harm. So our temporary employees felt they were assisting at a religious ceremony of sorts; and who, re-recalling what our Christmas celebration is, shall say that they were not?
The afternoon of Christmas day came at last; and Piatt's Hall was filled with a large and noisy company of little ones, romping, dancing, shouting, and trooping down to the cavernous-looking supper room below. On the stage, behind a huge screen, stood the Christmas tree, a tremendous specimen of its kind. As the day wore on the older folk arrived, and presently the exercises began. The children lustily sang their Christmas carols, the young men and women surpassed themselves in tableaux and shadow pantomimes, and between the acts the children danced to merry music. In the meantime, a half dozen of us, each with a bag full of paper snow-flakes on his shoulders, found our way up over the ceiling of the hall, and crept, candle in hand, across the slender rafters. The space was so low we could not stand upright. A single misstep, and our foot would go crashing through the lath and mortar ceiling, and hang like a signal of distress over the heads of the audience below. "How hot it is up here!" grumbled Charlie Murdock. "My snow will melt before I get to my position." "Be careful that you don't set fire to your snow with that candle," cried another. So, with laughter and retort, we each crawled to one of the great ventilators through which the heated air escaped from the hall below; and, dumping our pile of flakes conveniently near it, we stretched out on the rafters, peered down at the spectacle beneath us, and awaited the signal at which we were to begin snowing.
It was a pretty sight we gazed down upon, the great hall glittering with lights and filled with a brilliant and ever-shifting company, the children circling in the merry dance or standing in eager groups awaiting the arrival of Santa Claus. Surrounded by a company of friends and parishioners, stood the minister of the church, stalwart Horatio Stebbins, then not long arrived in California, but already a conspicuous figure.
On the fringe of the crowd, a slender, dark-haired man with laughing eyes stood nervously twitching his glossy mustache, or bent to listen to his children's prattle. Who among all that great company would have dreamed that this shy and as yet little known man, Frank Bret Harte, was in coming years to confer such luster on his adopted State, Immortalizing in tale and poem the beauty and romance of California, even as Starr King embodied for us in his brilliant oratory and martyr life the patriotism and loyalty of that land of sunshine and gold. And there, too, the central figure who brought order and purpose Into all the confusion and noise, was our genial superintendent, even more at home among the children than on the floor of Congress where, in after years, he made for himself an honorable record.
All this and more we gazed down upon from our high perch. But, now, the music came to a sudden stop. The children eagerly crowded up to the front of the stage, the screen was drawn aside, and there stood the giant Christmas tree, glittering with lights, strung with goodies, shining with its mimic silver and gold, and loaded with gifts for all. The general "Ah!" that greeted its glories soon swelled to shrill cries of delight as with cheery shout and jingling bells old Santa Claus came driving into the hall in his well-stocked sleigh, drawn by two pretty, bounding deer. The children gathered around their old friend as he nimbly descended and gave them a hearty greeting. But wonders were never to cease that happy night. As the orchestra struck up the Sleigh-bell Polka, the very heavens above seemed to open, and for once at least in the annals of a San Francisco Christmas it snowed. Oh, how it did snow! At first, a few flakes fluttered down furtively, then more and faster, and faster and more furiously still, till the whole room seemed full of the tiny messengers of purity. They settled down on the tree with its glittering lights, on the beard of the good old saint, on the merry children who jumped up to catch them as they fell and sought to press them together into snowballs, while the old folk declared: "Yes, this reminds us of the scenes of our youth. This is something like what Christmas used to be." Meanwhile, we, having finished our task, brushed the dust and cobwebs from each other and descended, well pleased at having increased the festival joy of the children, and given San Francisco her first Christmas snow-storm.
The earliest toy trains date from the 19th century and were often made of cast iron. Motorized units running on track soon followed, powered by a steam or clockwork engine. Some of these trains used clever methods to whistle and smoke. Above, "Val Ease East" turntable and yard scene
showing a 2-6-0 "Mogul" steam locomotive being turned. A scratch-built
Russell snow plow sits on a turntable spur. Scene shot on the Val Ease
Central Railroad (VECRR) layout in Z-scale (1:220).
Toy trains were revolutionized when Märklin, a German
firm that specialized in doll house accessories, sought to create an
equivalent toy for boys where a constant revenue stream could be ensured
by selling add-on accessories for years after the initial purchase. In
addition to boxed sets containing a train and track, Märklin offered
extra track, rolling stock, and buildings sold separately, creating the
predecessor to the modern model train layout featuring buildings and
scenery in addition to an operating train. Left, A simple Märklin model. Center, Märklin model 33190.10, from set 2881; model of KPEV S10 nr. 1008, later DB 17 008; Schwartzkopff factory number 4760. Left, Märklin Mobile Vision (digital camera mounted on a locomotive.
Electric trains followed, with the first appearing in 1897, produced by the U.S. firm Carlisle & Finch.
As residential use of electricity became more common in the early 20th
century, electric trains gained popularity and as time went on, these
electric trains grew in sophistication, gaining lighting, the ability to
change direction, to emit a whistling sound, to smoke, to remotely
couple and uncouple cars and even load and unload cargo. Toy trains from
the first half of the 20th century were often made of lithographed tin similar to the A No. 42 Trolley and Trailer in the permanent collection of The Children’s Museum of Indianapolis pictured above. The trolley was made between 1904-1909. Later, Carlisle & Finch made trains were often made mostly of plastic.
Prior to the 1950s, there was little distinction between toy trains and
model railroads—model railroads were toys by definition. Pull toys and
wind-up trains were marketed towards children, while electric trains
were marketed towards teenagers, particularly teenaged boys. It was
during the 1950s that the modern emphasis on realism in model
railroading started to catch on.
Consumer interest in trains as toys waned in the late 1950s, but has
experienced resurgence since the late 1990s due in large part to the
popularity of Thomas the Tank Engine. Left, Thomas the Tank EngineThomas & Friends season 1 story: Thomas & Gordon. Center, Thomas was designed after The E2 0-6-0T. Right, Life sized Thomas the Tank Engine at Ropley station on the Watercress Line
Today, S gauge and O gauge railroads are still considered toy trains
even by their adherents and are often accessorized with semi-scale
model buildings by Plasticville or K-Line (who owns the rights to the
Plasticville-like buildings produced by Marx from the 1950s to the
1970s). Ironically, however, due to their high cost, one is more likely
to find an HO scale or N scale train set in a toy store than an O scale
set. Above, An O gauge Marx toy train set made in the late 1940s or early 1950s
Many modern electric toy trains contain sophisticated electronics that
emit digitized sound effects and allow the operator to safely and
easily run multiple remote control trains on one loop of track. In
recent years, many toy train operators will operate a train with a TV
camera in the front of the engine and hooked up to an screen, such as
computer monitor. This will show an image, similar to that of a real
(smaller size) railroad. Above, The Miniatur Wunderland in Hamburg/Germany - the largest model railway in the world.
Our family visited a Christmas tree farm last weekend to cut a small tree for our home. At this farm there is a small train for children to ride up into the woods with their parents.
Inside the farm's store was a marvelous model train and display.
An elderly gentleman told me that the small village had been built with discarded lumber from an old barn nearby. A larger picture of the entire display is included forth from the top in this series of photographs.
I snapped a few photos of the buildings. This is the log cabin was nestled by the tunnel.
One of many small, Western figures in the display, a cowboy, his wagon and horse, and his Christmas tree of course!
The cowboy drives past the barber shop on the far right.
A train engineer shovels snow near the old wooden water tower.
Santa waves to the train is it leaves to deliver toys and gifts to all the visitors at the station.
