ReservationsContact UsWeather & DirectionsSite MapGift CardsAbout The Red Lion
Short History of the Red Lion Inn

"Finding Christmas" by Elizabeth Law

A family ritual I organized and enjoyed every year was our annual pilgrimage to Stockbridge and The Red Lion Inn. It was planned for early December to launch us full into the Christmas spirit. My husband, daughter and mother were the core group sometimes adding my brother and his family. It gave my mom a chance to reconnect with those she cared about. It was an event she talked about all year. I don't think it was just that it was Christmas or the fact that we were all together that made it special for her. That was important, of course, but it was also a way for her to step back into the time when she was young. Staying in a place less noisy, no televisions constantly running in the lobby, without the strictly functional furniture and stale self-serve coffee. The Red Lion Inn was to her like the places she knew as a young woman. Places of genuine service, comfy sofas meant for conversation and artwork on the walls that certainly would not be replicated in any hotel chain. It was the genuineness of it all that she enjoyed.

The last Christmas that we spent there together she said something that I found sentimental and should have quickly left my mind but it stuck with me to this day. We were having dinner in the Inn's Dining Room. Everything was lovely. The Searles Middle School Choir of Great Barrington was serenading us. They sing every year, standing on the stairs in the lobby. "Heaven must be like this - we are surrounded by the sounds of angels", she said with a serene inward smile. "I don't think that these kids are really angels." It was a bratty thing for me to say but my daughter and I were having our share of young teenage battles and I did not think of middle school children as being particularly angelic even if they may sound like it. But my mother took it all in stride. "Oh, of course they are angels. We all are actually." She seemed so sure of herself that I let the topic go. The choir started singing about making Christmas cookies and we were back to the tangible Christmas that was far more comfortable for me. "Roll the dough, ho, ho."

The following December my mother had checked into a hospital for emergency surgery. It seems that she had cancer and did not know it until it had spread to critical proportions. I spent the month with her in the hospital: surgery, recovery, critical care, and more recovery. The yo-yo of cancer: one hour it all looks good, the next you can see the end of the world. My mother passed away that Christmas. I was sure I would never enjoy the holiday again. I had lost too much.

 So this Christmas when it came time for the trip to Stockbridge I was not eager to go but we already had the reservations and my daughter wanted to go. Dad stayed behind thinking it would be better if it was just "the girls". We spent the day shopping at the Lee Outlet Mall and when we got back, we decided to stroll the Stockbridge Main Street. We had fun going in and out of the little shops. As we were leaving one we ran straight into a mother and daughter we knew. My daughter and hers were on the same soccer team. We would carpool and see each other at games. It had been a very long time since we had seen them and we asked them to dine with us. They were driving back that evening so it would have to be something simple.

My daughter suggested the Tavern at the Red Lion Inn. When we got to the Inn my daughter held open the door for our guests, led the way into the Tavern and politely asked for a table for four. She made room for our guests to sit down first, greeted our waiter, ordered a sensible and delicious meal and then started a friendly conversation. This may not seem like a lot but to a mother of a teenage daughter it was an unforgettable moment. I was seeing the emergence of a young woman. She was inquisitive, intelligent and charming. The two soccer buddies discussed world events and college plans. We had a wonderful time not just as mother and daughter but as four fabulous women. I could feel myself relaxing. I did not feel like I had to be in charge anymore. This year I had been so wrapped up in my mother's affairs and my own grief I was not seeing how life was going on around me. My daughter was turning into a person I really liked - a real friend.

After dinner we walked them to their car and said goodbye. It was dark outside. I like seeing the dark. There are so many places now where it never gets dark - neon signs and bright parking lots - but Stockbridge is not like that. As we walked back to the Inn I felt as though I was seeing it for the first time. It was so quiet. There were no booming car stereos, no honking horns, not even an overhead airplane. The air was clean and crisp. I turned to my daughter and said, "I think one reason people love to come here is because we wish our own hometown was like this." She looked thoughtful and said, "Well, they were once but we let it all slip away." We walked into the Inn and I thought about how many Christmases the Red Lion has seen. There have been so many mothers who sat in this lobby, looking at the tree, thinking of their girls and wanting the best for them - wanting them to always be happy.

As we got into bed I thanked my daughter for being with me and suggested we could get Dad to come next time. My daughter smiled brightly and said, "We could, but I was just thinking that being in this old fashioned beautiful room together was like something out of "Little Women". "That's true." I said, "It is a little like being in a novel." We had turned out the lights but there was still something I had to ask. "Do you remember the last time we were here and Grandma said that everyone is an angel. Do you think that is silly?" "Hmm." my daughter/friend was giving it careful consideration. "If anyone was an angel it definitely would be Grandma. I guess the point is not whether everyone is an angel but to see everyone as an angel. Grandma saw the angel in everyone."

She was right. I found Christmas just then, snuggled under the blankets. It is about seeing the potential of very moment, stopping the noise and slowing down. "Thank you." I said in my mind to my mom, my daughter, my husband, and to the Inn.

Thank you and good night.

Return to Story List

HomeAccomodationsDiningGuest ServicesThe BerkshiresEntertainment


For Email Marketing you can trust