16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Sunday, March 17, 1912: Today is St. Patrick’s Day. I had some green on this morning. It was so nice out today. Just like spring. I was going away this afternoon, but didn’t go after all.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
Sometimes I’m surprised how similar some things are across the years.
The weather was beautiful a hundred years ago–just like it is today.
Grandma wore green a hundred years ago– just like I’m wearing green today.
16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Wednesday, February 14, 1912: I didn’t get any valentines today, although they would have been accepted if I had. Our future teacher arrived at school this morning, but he isn’t going to commence until next Monday. Gee whiz, but he is tall. I wonder if I will like him, but I think I will.
Grandma didn't get any, but here is an example of a nice 1912 valentine postcard.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
Grandma sounds kind of sad that she didn’t get any valentines. Though getting nothing was probably better than she deserved since she only sent ugly, vinegar valentines.
Is it worse to be ignored than to get a vinegar valentine?
16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Monday, February 12, 1912: Got my valentines in preparation. They’re all ugly ones. I thought one was most too much to send as it was rather mean looking. But I got it ready, so it has to go.
DON’T sit up nights admiring yourself.
The best that can be said of you
Is that you might pass in a crowd.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
What could the valentine have possibly said that was almost too bad to send? And, who was Grandma sending it to? . . . . .a classmate?. . . her teacher? . . . her sister?
16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Saturday, February 10, 1912: I got some ugly valentines today. I had all the milking to do tonight and will have it for tomorrow morning. Our dear Ruthie is spending the time with Tweet.
Pride Goeth Before Fall
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
Tweet is the nickname of Helen Wesner. She was a friend of Grandma and her sister Ruth.
A hundred years ago people sometimes gave ugly valentines that were often called vinegar valentines. Who did Grandma plan to give them to?
To see more vinegar valentines see these posts from last year:
16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Monday, January 1, 1912: Not getting tired in the least of keeping a diary even if I do not travel or do anything as interesting. I will still continue to write down the happenings as the days go by, as I did last year. Understand this is not the beginning of a new diary, but simply a continuation of the old one, guaranteed to be full of numerous mistakes and blunders, much to the writer’s annoyance.
1912
This is leap year and rightfully belongs to old maids and maidens, especially the neglected ones, like my snappy sister, etc.
January brings to us a new born year,
To do with as we will
So each worthy deed be done
And every glad and hopeful thought fulfilled.
New Year’s day for me had a rather doleful beginning, but brightened up as the day passed on. Carrie came over this afternoon and we went a skating or rather she did the skating and I the tumbling. I was just experimenting, being the first time I really tried to skate. Maybe I’ll buy a pair of skates pretty soon, as I haven’t any of my own. But the learning, however, isn’t much fun.
Ruth and I went up to Oakes this evening. It is so grand these evenings. One I could most read by moonlight.
New Year Post Card, circa 1912
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
I’ve now been posting these diary entries for one year—and like Grandma I’m not getting tired in the least. I enjoyed posting entries in 1911 and look forward to learning more about Grandma and her times during the upcoming year.
16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Monday, December 25, 1911: Merry Xmas, Merry Xmas, but nobody wished me a Merry Xmas. I mean in person of course. I was wished a Merry Xmas on different post-cards throughout the week. I felt rather blue this morning. Could hardly realize it was Christmas, but felt better when I saw my presents. Ruth got me the one I wanted her to get: a bow tie. Besse gave me goods for a waist and a piece of neck wear. Mrs. Kerr, my Sunday School teacher, gave me a miniature suitcase filled with candy last evening. And lastly a dollar bill from my mother. Christmas is almost over now, but I am looking forward to New Year’s. Then I can have the commencing my second chapter. Oh what a fib I almost wrote. I was wished a Merry Xmas right this morning and I almost forget about it. I was rather merry after all even if we did not have company.
Christmas postcard, circa 1911
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Sunday, December 24, 1911:Succeeded in getting my verses learnt for today at least. Went to Sunday School this morning. After buying Xmas presents, I find it my horrendous duty to distribute them, so down to Besse’s I went to present her with my charming Xmas present. This evening Ruthie and I went up to McEwensville to attend the Xmas services at the Lutheran Church. B. was there. Today was different from all other days in this year, I believe. I didn’t have anything to do with the dishes all day.
Messiah Lutheran Church, McEwensville
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
I can just picture a teen writing this entry–with its total focus on the things that are important to a 16-year-old. Who was B.? . .
But I’m going to focus on the Christmas Eve service–
When I was a child I regularly went to candlelight services at Messiah Lutheran Church — the same church Grandma attended on Christmas Eve a hundred years ago. I wonder if the services changed much over the years.
In the middle part of the last century, I remember singing wonderful old-time carols —We Three Kings, Joy to the World, It Came Upon a Midnight Clear, O Little Town of Bethlehem, O Come All Ye Faithful, Hark the Herald Angels, . .. . ..
We’d end with Silent Night after all of the lights had been extinguished except for the candles we were lighting.
(Of course, there was no electricity in 1911—so the church would have been lit with lanterns and candles for the entire service.)
I don’t know why, but I have strong memories of one year when an elderly woman didn’t extinguish her candle at the end of the service, and took the flickering light out into the cold night.
I remember asking my mother why the woman didn’t follow the directions—and my mother said that the old lady was remembering Christmas’s from long ago and that we should let her be. I looked at the woman and could see how happy she looked as her face was illuminated by the flickering light.
Traditions, like Christmas Eve services, can so wonderfully pull the young and the old together.
