Once upon a time, Christmas memories from third pew from the chancel steps and below the pulpit at St. John's Chapleau

"Once upon a time, in a land, far, far away, and in a divisional point on the mighty transcontinental Canadian Pacific Railway was erected a replica of an 'English' church found in the 'Mother Country'", Marion (Morris) Kennedy, wrote in a letter to me shortly before she died on December 26, 2007.

Aunt Marion, daughter of Lil (Mulligan) and Harry Morris and sister of my father, James E. Morris, was writing about St. John's Anglican Church in Chapleau, being a replica of a church in England. She was reflecting on memories of St. John's at Christmas time when she was a young girl "sitting with her mother who was hard of hearing, third pew from the chancel steps and below the pulpit."

Aunt Marion married Harold Kennedy who came to Chapleau as the Ontario Provincial Police officer.

She was kneeling "watching (through her fingers) the parishioners partaking in the Holy Communion rite."

But, Aunt Marion started her letter with a wonderful description of St. John's as it was when she was young, and was the same when I last visited it when home for the Chapleau High School 90th anniversary reunion in 2012.

She wrote that it was "a marvel, with flying buttreses, and inside, carved pews, railings, choir stalls, bishop's chair, pulpit and pipe organ. (As an aside, my family in 1948 donated a Prayer desk in front of the bishop's chair in memory of my father who was killed on active service in the RCAF during World War II).

"Over the entry in the chancel, inscribed on the walls, semi-circle are the words "Enter Into His Gates with Thanksgiving and Into His Courts with Praise" (Psalm 100:4)

"Above the beautiful altar screen three stained glass windows are positioned, centred with Jesus and the famous "Behold I stand at the door and knock..." (Revelation 3:20) and yes, no door latch. St. John and St. Andrew as flanks, and above 'wall to wall' fresco depicting kneeling women.

My aunt, like me, was not in favour of church doors being locked with her comment "and yes, no door latch" but that is a story for another day.

She continues with the popular story among church members years ago about the bellows being worked "by boys given the honour in a cupboard below the organ".

"There was many a tale of the organist wildly pumping the foot pedals and calling for air", when the boys failed to work the bellows.

"The boys carved or wrote their initials on the walls -- one set belonging to the brother of the narrator, and in times of refurbishing the church the initials were always left as is". I wonder if they are still there -- a pretty historic document in the life of St. John's.

As church members exited at the end of the service Christmas greetings were exchanged quietly as the congregation had been very moved 'by the devotion and faith" of an elderly First Nations person who had walked a far distance to attend.

She wrote to me that she recalled this particular service and her thoughts every Christmas no matter where she lived. She added that following the services on Christmas Eve the townspeople from St. John's, Trinity United Church and Sacred Heart Roman Catholic Church would greet each other on their way home.

She also noted that following Christmas Eve services, neighbours would gather, " in the clear moon lit night with the Aurora Borealis crackling above".

That was my experience too growing up in Chapleau after  attending St. John's, where my mother, Muriel E. (Hunt) Morris would leave home early as she was choir director, but walk home with us -- my grandparents Edythe and George Hunt. My aunt and uncle B.W. 'Bubs' and Elsie Zufelt and my cousins Betty, Anne, Joan and Leslie would depart at the Beech Street corner, and we would see them on Christmas Day.

I would also spend time with my Morris grandparents, and Aunt Marion when she was home in Chapleau.

Those were the days my friends in so many ways, and when I came across my aunt's letter recently, decided to share some of it with you. I extend my most sincere best wishes, and every blessing, for a very Merry Christmas. My email is mj.morris@live.ca