Mid-winter greetings from Maine, where we just had a 22" load of the white
stuff on Christmas day. Everyone on our street is now dug out, white piles
7' high all along.

My dad held many of the English traditions of his mother who grew up there.
On Boxing Day evening he would step over and open the front door to holler
out, "Open the doooor, Listen to the Poooor, please to let the new aaaair
iiiiiin." and then tell his mother's Boxing Day stories. He said in England
the wealthy folks would box up goods to pass out to their poorer
acquaintenances when they came around boxin' on Boxing Day. The boxes might
contain new gifts, food, or more-likely second-hand items and clothes that
still had
some use in them. Even the second hand stuff would seem grand and priceless.
I had always thought my dad's family was on the receiving end of this
tradition, but one time he told stories of how they often felt so fortunate
when returning home from boxin', that in the evening they would "box out"
some of their own boxing goods to others. In this way the goods trickled
down to those who were truly needy.

John (long lost son of Shropshire) Leeke

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