Christmas day had been pleasant and it was bedtime. After our usual popcorn and apples and a story from Mom we all headed to our beds. Outside the stars twinkled in the winter sky. A few fresh inches of snow clung to everything and reflected the light of the moon.
It was a perfect night to burrow deeply under the covers on the bed. Just as we were drifting off to sleep there was a knock on the door. Daddy went to see who it was and found a stranger sitting on the porch clutching a bottle of whiskey and asking if Daddy could please give him a ride home. That he had hurt his leg and couldn't walk any longer. He said he lived up the hill a little ways and if Daddy could please give him a ride he would be so grateful.
Daddy could see that he was obviously intoxicated and needed help getting home. We didn't know everyone in the village but since it wasn't very far he offered to use our furniture wagon and pull it, giving him a ride home rather than hitching up our horse and using the buggy. He asked one of the boys to help him and David volunteered to go along.
The wagon with it's extra heavy burden pulled a little harder than they expected as they headed up the road. Once they got to the village the man told them to keep going that he lives a little farther down the road. They kept trudging through the cold, mile after mile as the man kept telling them just a little farther on.
When they finally got him to his home they dropped him off and turned around to trek all the way home. Weary from the long way they had walked they started riding down every hill they came to. David had a lot more experience riding wagons down hill than Daddy did so Daddy sat in the back and let David steer. I can only imagine what any passerbys must have thought meeting them in the middle of the night taking a wagon ride down the road.
They got home around 2:30 in the morning exhausted and went right to bed. We never did find out who it was they had given a ride to and it still remains one of the most memorable Christmas nights ever.