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Christmas at the Mission

© Janice Oberding

Family tradition that's what the holidays are all about. When I was a girl we spent our Christmas day at Mission San Carlos or San Juan Batista. Dad was a history buff who loved to explore the old buildings and teach us children about the mission's and their founder, Father Junipero Serra. With breakfast behind us, and after all the gifts were unwrapped and sufficiently "ooohed" and "ahhhed" over we'd all pile into dad's old station wagon and head south toward San Juan Batista or Carmel.

On this particular Christmas day the family was headed for San Juan Batista. Accompanying us was gran's dear friend Beth. An elderly spinster who claimed to reside with three ghosts, Beth had a penchant for dipping snuff and wasn't one of Dad's favorite people. Still it was Christmas after all.

Dad may have groaned inwardly but, he barely flinched when Gran announced that she had invited Beth along.

"Just as long as she leaves all those ghosts of hers behind." Dad joked.

Gran was a believer in the paranormal. She didn't take kindly to Dad's good-natured kidding with her about Beth's ability to communicate with the dead.

"I'm sure they wouldn't want to go with us anyway. "

"Then that's settled" He smiled. "I don't want any hitchhikers."

When we arrived at the mission we kids jumped out of the car and made a mad dash for the livery stable. For some reason we loved to look at all the finely tooled leather saddles and silver accoutrements that were on display.

The adults met us at the livery door a short while later.

"There's a very unhappy ghost in this building." Beth announced. "Over there by the side saddle."

Dad scowled at mom as if to say, here we go.

"Why is he so unhappy," Gran asked.

"Not he, Kate! This is a young lady who lost her life. Oh...Oh dear, let me sit down." Dad helped the old woman to a nearby bench.

After she'd gained her composer, Beth said, . "Her name was Myrtle. She was 19 years old. The man who murdered her was jealous of her fiancée's wealth. So he tricked her into meeting him in this area then strangled her."

"Is the ghost telling you all this?" Dad demanded.

Beth nodded silently. The sunlight sparkled and flashed off her white hair.

"Is that her saddle?" Mom asked.

"No. She was a very good horsewoman and she simply likes being around all the saddles. "

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