The Christmas Of Alexander Buffalo

Imagine a staged production of A Christmas Carol set in 1843. See the stage set in the exact time it was written by Charles Dickens. The foggy, crowded streets abuzz with carolers and shoppers, the children staring wide eyed into the shops and bakeries. Hear the bells ringing as a round of “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” fills the gaslit streets with joy. As a child, going to see A Christmas Carol was one of my fondest Christmas memories. To witness Scrooge 's’ transformation from a mean, greedy old man to a joyous, loving benefactor always left me smiling and filled me with hope.

Within all life, there is one unifier - death. How can it be described? What happens afterwards? Do people live on in memory, in portrait, in soul, or are they simply… gone? Andrew Wyeth brings these questions to light in his painting “Christmas Morning,” created in 1944.

"Empty as the man 's mind was of thoughts, he was keenly observant, and he noticed changes in the creeks, the curves and bends and timbre jams, and always he sharply noted where he placed his feet. Here, the man is learning from his prior mistakes and letting himself be led by the cold, earlier when he was thinking of his goal and not of his feet, he found himself with freezing toes. Now, after time in the Yukon, he has found a respect for the cold. Although, this respect is not enough to drive him to the next campsite, London is unforgiving of the man 's original eubrice in taking on the cold, and does not seem to want to allow him to succeed.

Next he moved into the common room and lay a fire in the black stone fireplace, brushing the ash from the massive hearth along the northern wall. He pumped water, washed his hands, and brought up a piece of mutton from the basement. He cut fresh kindling, carried in firewood, punched down the rising bread and moved it close to the now warm stove.

The evidence shows pictures of four different kitchens in the United States colonial time period. Each kitchen is very open with fireplace being the center. There are a lot of pots, pans and a variety of utensils. The fireplaces are fueled by wood, which is shown in every picture. Three pictures show kitchens of middle class, single family homes. The last picture portrays the kitchen of Thomas Jefferson, who was wealthy and able to afford more than the other families.

  Clarke pushed the cold dirt out from against a tree and laid down. She decided it was comfortable enough to sleep in but far to cold. She gathered twigs and leaves. She threw the twigs and leaves on her for a blanket. When all this was done the sun had already set and the night was getting colder. Winter is definitely coming soon. She sighed and laid her head back. Soon enough she was in her terrible dream once again.

room with a fireplace, a table, three chairs and a big bed. With a family of six, it was a tight fit, but after nights on boats and trains, it was heaven. Then came the fleas, which fed upon their slender bodies night after night.

I cannot not taste the winter. Not really. Its shrilling torment silts my palate as if fire drew breath upon the vein—I was born from the womb to frozen ground. My life dangling from the crusted branches of the famed Frost pines as my mother severed me from the heat of her body. Within the confines of her fingers, she gave me over to the mountains claws, lifting me to coddle at her biting breast. My pulse agitated by the glacial rumblings echoing deep within the ribcage of The Furies drank until my bones no longer shivered—until the crust of my skin became peppered with frost. Such is the physiology of all children of the North born under a banner of snow, and such as I am. Thus, I cannot taste the winter. No one person can ever rightly digest

His choice of words and descriptions allow the reader to picture the Yukon Trail and surrounding landscape. The descriptions also give the reader vivid insight into the extreme conditions that the man is subject to during his travels. The lengthy description of the snow, ice, and the man’s beard, face, hands, and feet allow the reader to feel as though they are experiencing the story in his or her own head. At the beginning of the story, London repeats the temperature multiple times which is an indicator that it is going to play a main part in the man’s survival or ultimate death. The main characters surrounding caused him to evolve during the course of the story. At the beginning, he did not fully comprehend the problems associated with subzero temperatures. The man believed he would reach camp by night fall where a fire and hot food would be waiting for him. At the time, he did not contemplate the challenges of seventy-five degrees below zero. After walking for

Winter is a time of cold, when forests die and animals hide from the shrieking winds and biting cold. Winter is a time for survival against the odds. How apt that the speaker is struggling against the "lovely, dark and deep" woods to remember that he has "miles to go before [he] sleep[s]." The "easy wind" calls to him, and the "downy flake" beckons him to a comfortable sleep. If the speaker had paused on a bright summer day, the sleep might be just a short rest, but the poem is set on the "darkest evening of the year" while the "woods fill up with snow," and any rest taken in the "lovely, dark and deep" woods would result in the eternal sleep of death (474).

Summary: In the way north by the Arctic Sea live the People Who Fear the Winter Night. One of these people is a young girl named Teune, an amazing robe maker. One night, during a blizzard, the sparks from Teune’s fire sets the Blizzard’s robe on fire. The People Who Fear the Winter Night rejoiced because that the Blizzard is no longer a threat, but Teune is filled with sorrow. In a dream the Blizzard comes to Teune and ask her to make a new robe with the promise of gift for her and her people. After making the robe Teune and her people are given the gift of the Northern Lights and no longer need to fear the winter night. These people are now known as the People of the Northern Lights.

It was the birth of the one and only son of God, holy baby Jesus. This story will be following along with my point of view as the innkeeper. As this historical story goes on you will learn why many people love to celebrate this historical event on Christmas. Here is my story, my journey, and my experience on that night.

Two minutes later, we were wedged into a lumpy sofa in Link’s living room. The room looked more like a page out of an antique furniture magazine. Overstuffed chaises and chairs were crowded around oak tables, stacked with well-worn tattered tales. There was a clock hanging over a roaring fire, boxes of knickknacks stacked on shelves, and several faded family photos lying next to a meerschaum pipe on a carved nesting table.

For my family, the celebration of Christmas begins the day after Thanksgiving. While enjoying leftovers from the day before at my sister’s house, I help her decide the color scheme for her tree. With Christmas carols in the background, we decorate her tree and take down all of her Fall decorations only to replace them with snowmen and Santas. Christmas sweaters for her two dachshunds are dug out from their sweater and costume drawer to see if they still fit her dogs, Bella and Leah.