Book Excerpt<\/span><\/span><\/b><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/span> <\/p>\n Richard Tizzard gazed out at the ocean from his small home in Grand Bank, Newfoundland. The wind was high, and the waves were crashing against the shore, sending spray up into the air. Already, his house had a thick coating of the stuff on the side facing the water and he could hear it creaking and groaning against this relentless onslaught.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/span><\/p>\n But inside, with the wood stove piled high, Richard and his old dog, Rusty, were perfectly comfortable and content. Both of them were coming to the end of their lives and Richard had accepted that almost completely. His children were trying to keep him hanging on as long as possible, but he was fine with what he knew was an inevitable outcome.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n He loved the quote by the great Bengali poet, Rabindranath Tagore that his friend, Doctor Vijay Sanjay had shared with him. He smiled to himself as he repeated it to Rusty. \u201c\u2019Death is not extinguishing the light; it is putting out the lamp as dawn has come\u2019.\u201d Rusty seemed to smile, too, at this saying.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t that he wanted to go, but Richard Tizzard was getting himself ready. In the meantime, he planned to enjoy his family to the upmost. His two daughters, Margaret and Brenda lived in Grand Bank with their almost grown-up families. His son, Eddie, lived in Marystown now with his wife Carrie and their two children. Little Hughie was almost two and the joy of Richard\u2019s life while the baby, Sophie, was quickly overtaking her brother as his favourite.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n He smiled again when he thought about Eddie and his young family. It reminded him of when he had a young family of his own back in the tiny community of Ramea. Ramea is and was a small village off the southwest coast of Newfoundland that was only accessible by ferry. It did, however, have a rich fishing ground nearby and for many years provided a good livelihood for Richard and his four brothers, all of whom fished the abundant waters for many years.<\/span><\/p>\n But in the early 1990\u2019s the inshore cod fishery collapsed and by 1992, when the cod moratorium was declared, all of them were out of work. The older brothers retired their boats and licenses and took the government support that was offered. Richard was too young for that, so he used the payout to move to Grand Bank. First, he worked in the fishing industry on a crew of a longliner operating out of Marystown. But when that work diminished, he went back to his true love, carpentry and woodworking.<\/span><\/p>\n He still did a little personal work on the side but his days of working for a living were over. He enjoyed all his family and the grandchildren tremendously, but the truth was that all he had left today were memories. Like many older people he spent a lot of time reminiscing and remembering these days. And as it was getting near Christmas, he thought a lot about Christmas from his past.<\/span><\/p>\n Growing up in his mom and dad\u2019s saltbox house in Ramea. Christmas was a very quiet and peaceful affair. But he still remembered it fondly as one of the nicest times of the year. His father and older brothers were fishermen, so the winter was a slow season. They fixed their nets and did a few odd jobs around the house, but most of their time was spent cutting and splitting wood for the cast iron woodstove that heated their home and was action central for all cooking and baking.<\/span><\/p>\n About two weeks before Christmas his mother would start her Christmas baking. Shortbread cookies, mince pies and next year\u2019s Christmas cakes. This year\u2019s cakes were all ready to be unwrapped in a week or so and that would begin the \u2018season of eating\u2019 his dad called it. Richard loved the smell of the cookies and cakes as the days went by and to hear his mother singing, usually some old hymn or Christmas song like Angels We Have Heard on High<\/em> or Away in a Manger<\/em>.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n The men would continue their work as usual until a few days before Christmas Day. Then, his father would announce that it was time to get their tree and the whole family, except his mother, who was almost literally chained to the stove in the kitchen, would head out with their horse and sleigh to find a Christmas tree. They didn\u2019t have to go far.<\/span><\/p>\n The houses in Ramea were built mostly around the harbour in sheltered nooks and crannies out of the constant wind. That meant almost all the land above them was still heavily forested with an abundance of Balsam firs that made the perfect Christmas trees. His father would lead the procession into the forest, but the tradition in the Tizzard family was that all the children would draw straws to see would pick their tree. The year Richard drew the shortest straw he was so excited he almost peed his pants.<\/span><\/p>\n As the others urged him on, making suggestions, Richard took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them and turned around, he saw it. A six-foot Balsam fir with many branches that spread out from top to bottom. \u201cThat\u2019s it,\u201d he cried, and everyone cheered. They cut it down and put it on the back of the sleigh to go home. When they arrived, their mom had made a pot of hot cocoa and while the tree was drying out in a corner they sat around and enjoyed their sweet, hot treat with some home-made cookies.<\/span><\/p>\n When Richard closed his eyes today, he could still smell that Christmas tree in their kitchen and taste that delicious hot cocoa. He remembered his mom sitting by herself next to the stove smiling. That was one of her last Christmas holidays with them, he recalled. She died like so many others at that time from complications in the birth of his youngest sister. Christmas was never quite the same in their household after that.<\/span><\/p>\n \u2013 Excerpted from Christmas in Newfoundland 3 by Mike Martin, Ottawa Press and Publishing, 2025. Reprinted with permission.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n About the Author<\/span><\/span><\/b><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/b><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Mike Martin<\/b><\/a> He is the award-winning author of the best-selling <\/span>Sgt. Windflower Mystery<\/b> series<\/a>, set in beautiful Grand Bank. There are now 16 books in this light mystery series with the publication of <\/span>Friends are Forever<\/i><\/b><\/a>.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n A Tangled Web<\/i><\/b><\/a>\u00a0was shortlisted in 2017 for the best light mystery of the year, and\u00a0<\/span>Darkest Before the Dawn<\/i><\/b><\/a>\u00a0<\/i>won the 2019 Bony Blithe Light Mystery Award.<\/span>\u00a0All That Glitters<\/i><\/b><\/a> was shortlisted for the LOLA 2024 Must Read Book of the year award.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Some <\/span>Sgt. Windflower Mysteries<\/b> are now available as audiobooks and the latest <\/span>Darkest Before the Dawn<\/i><\/b><\/a> was released as an audiobook in 2024. All audiobooks are available from Audible in Canada and around the world.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Mike is Past Chair of the Board of His latest book is <\/span>Christmas in Newfoundland 3: Sgt. Windflower Holiday Tales<\/i><\/b>.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Visit Mike\u2019s website at <\/span>www.sgtwindflowermysteries.com<\/b><\/a>. Connect with him at <\/span>X<\/b><\/a> and <\/span>Facebook<\/b><\/a>.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n
A Christmas Wish<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n![](\"https:\/\/blogger.googleusercontent.com\/img\/b\/R29vZ2xl\/AVvXsEjzs609uqhgEOfyBllEwgBX6SQQLq4gpGO4yx0aViZ4Ossq6zIfdR0Dx57cL6Mh2cRVBnnRc7dkDuKQZGko9oT7DC2WbCNLvwcRhaaWLJFDcBPBVl6FNpCEu9JBhiACVc5FYldCi4pFeFfkdd96rUSYh_I2FT0iF9v7Dvsyr4yDX-8rzT9ndpOtdZ9r7w\/s1932\/Christmas%20in%20Newfoundland%203%20animated.gif\")
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\n was born in St. John\u2019s, NL on the east coast of Canada and now lives
\nand works in Ottawa, Ontario. He is a long-time freelance writer and his
\n articles and essays have appeared in newspapers, magazines and online
\nacross Canada as well as in the United States and New Zealand.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n
\nCrime Writers of Canada, a national organization promoting Canadian
\ncrime and mystery writers and a member of the Newfoundland Writers\u2019
\nGuild and Capital Crime Writers.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n