Margaret and Marguerite were both there, and probably remember this (if at all) differently, but here's my memory:
It was 1965. I was sixteen, and I think Bert Bessembinders was a year older. We were "dating," which, in that time and place, meant we attended church and school functions together, and occasionally had dinner with each other's parents. It all began in September, when school started, and was over in about six weeks, when his parents decided to move to Logan, Utah.
A trip was planned...I was to travel by bus to spend Christmas in Logan with Bert and his family. I couldn't believe my parents were allowing this, and I had been packing and unpacking, trying to decide what to wear, and what sort of presents to take for Bert and his family.
On December 22rd, it started to snow. By Dec 23rd, when I was supposed to leave, there was enough snow that the buses were cancelled, and so was my trip.
It's not nice to be stranded without a date or a party invitation on Christmas Eve when you're a Senior in high school. Margaret talked me into going to Betty Jean's party with her, though I hated to be the proverbial "extra girl." Our parties consisted of a lot of 60s music (um...yeah), dimmed lights in the living room, hot chocolate and cookies. Couples dancing languorously to "Blue Velvet," or energetically to "I Wanna Hold Your Hand." Parents hanging out in the house, but out of sight. An occasional couple necking in the corner behind the Christmas Tree.
It was warm and cozy, and I was glad I had gone.
Somebody suggested carolling. The snow had stopped by then, and lay...well...deep and crisp and even, all over that tiny town. Moonlight shone down through the frosty air. We walked, giggling and singing, up one street and down another until we got cold enough to go back to Betty Jean's for more hot chocolate and rides home.
It turned out to be one of the best Christmases of my youth!