The Story of Yuletide Carol December 19, 2011
Posted by Dan R. Dick in Advent, Christmas, Personal Reflection.Tags: Advent, Christmas
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In every town, in every time, there are those rare individuals who become part of the “local color.” If they are wealthy, they are labeled eccentric. If they are poor, they are simply “crazy.” Outsiders see these people and marvel. Townies hardly notice them – they become part of the fabric – odd threads that give special texture to the whole piece. One woman – Yuletide Carol to the residents of Muncie, Indiana – was such a thread.
Growing up, I was ever aware of the troll-like woman who wandered the downtown streets of Muncie. I cannot recall the first time I ever saw her, but it was not until she died that I even learned her true name. Yuletide Carol just was. She waddled the streets spring, summer, fall, and winter bawling Christmas songs at the top of her lungs. Remarkably, her voice was not awful, and she had the uncanny ability to recall dozens of songs in their entirety. Dressed in a worn wool coat – regardless of the weather – Yuletide Carol would wobble, weeble-like, waddling along the sidewalks. A raspberry colored babushka encircled her jack-o-lantern face – squinted eyes, vegetable-lump nose, picket-fence grin, and potato-shaped, warted chin. She stood all of five-foot tall, but was a yard wide. Tree trunk legs propelled her on her way. Amazingly, most people in town didn’t even see her, so familiar a sight did she provide.
