If an Appalachian schoolhouse Christmas had a heartbeat, it thumped loudest inside that little coal camp schoolhouse. The walls were thin, the floorboards creaked, and the stove rattled every time someone sneezed — but in December, it felt like the warmest place in the world.
When I was growing up, we always went to my grandparents’ house for Christmas. There would be anywhere from twenty to thirty people crowded inside, with children packed in so tight it felt like the house could barely hold us all. The air buzzed with excitement as we waited for the moment when it would finally be time to open presents.
