12/13/2025
Christmas Time 1909
It was Christmastime in 1909, and Island Falls rested quietly beneath a cold, clear moonlit sky. The moon cast a pale silver glow across the fresh snow along Main Street, where footsteps crunched softly and breath drifted away in faint clouds. The night was still, the kind of winter calm that seemed to hold a town in pause.
The Island Falls Opera House rose warm and steady against the cold. Its tall, steep roof was outlined in moonlight, and from the large brick chimney a slow plume of woodsmoke curled upward, carrying the familiar scent of a well-tended fire. Frost edged the windows, but behind the glass the glow of gaslights softened the building’s lines and spilled gently into the street.
From above, the faint sound of applause drifted down from the second-floor theatre, a distant rhythm of clapping and laughter that followed anyone passing by. It told of a show already underway and a house well filled.
Inside, warmth gathered around polished wood and crowded seats. Latecomers slipped in quietly, drawn forward by the rich smells of fresh popped popcorn, roasted peanuts, and the cool sweetness of candy canes lingering in the air. Gaslights flickered along the walls, their glow steady as the performance carried on.
As the evening reached its end, the theatre fell briefly silent. Then the final applause rose — full and unhurried — echoing through the room as the performers returned for their bows. The curtain lowered at last, and the house slowly stirred back to life.
Coats were retrieved, scarves wrapped, and quiet conversations followed people down the stairs and out into the night. The warmth slipped away as the doors opened, replaced by the sharp, clean cold of the outdoors. Snow creaked beneath boots, and the opera house behind them began to dim as the gaslights were turned low.
Stagecoaches waited along the street, horses shifting and breathing clouds into the moonlit air. Folks climbed aboard, blankets pulled close as drivers gathered the reins. With a creak of wood and leather, the coaches set off, gliding over the snow toward home.
The Island Falls Opera House stood silent once more, smoke thinning above its roof, its windows dark against the winter night. Christmas settled back in around it, leaving only moonlight, fresh snow, and the fading memory of applause carried away on the cold air.
