Ghosts of Christmas past are not necessarily the scary kind we see in films such as "A Christmas Carol." They can be benign, funny, fun or sad.

At the Plainville Historic Center, "Christmases Past" are preserved with tender and considerate care. Folks who have entrusted their treasures to the historical society expect no less.

But on Christmas Eve, after all the visitors are gone and the carefully planned events have been presented, a silence falls over the 1890 former town hall and shadows grow dark in the corners.

But what to our "wonderful eyes now appear?" Well, it's not reindeer!

Suddenly, every light blazes - small voices shrill in laughter, trains whistle, and all sorts of dolls race around from the children's room into the country kitchen and back. While there, they scream for popcorn being strung by the two "children" dolls that live there. I mean they really scream, so loud do they vocalize that it brings an expression of disapproval on the faces of some of the older dolls. The oldest, especially says with a frown, "Now in my day...," but the younger dolls have danced away, eating popcorn.

The teddy bear brothers, Ted and Todd, really approve of the whole noisy group and turn cartwheels as their contribution to the fun. Now it's quite hard for a bear to do this considering their figures but swept up in the spirit of the moment they do quite well. They also sing rowdy bruin songs!

The Snickerdoodle family, who live in the 1910-20's-era dollhouse, rush to their tiny windows to enjoy the fun; their small voices, more like the squeaking of a mouse, can be hardly heard above the racket, but their smiles are warm and real!

Now some of the dolls tired of the costumes they either arrived in or those chosen by one of the docents, start opening boxes and doll-sized trunks, tossing beautiful clothing thither, looking for the one dress that seems right for them.

"Stop that right now!" a commanding voice cuts through the giggles and babble.

Who is this that speaks with such authority?

Goodness! It's the huge snowman who is usually smiling sweetly through his cool teeth. But you must understand that a snowman cannot tolerate really loud voices in heated discussions since anything hot melts his snow badly! So he puts a stop to their loud outbursts!

Quiet descends, at least for a few moments then creaking and squeaking comes from one of the big cabinets. It seems that the Ferris wheel and the tiny train are having a lot of trouble getting started. There is no one to wind them up, and try as they may, they cannot manage that by themselves.

Big Ted takes pity on them and even though his furry paws are clumsy, manages to get the train going. Tooting merrily, it gently gives the Ferris Wheel a nudge, and it too joins the celebration.

Checkerboards, marbles and coloring books are now occupying the dolls who are somewhat winded by now.

Doll-sized tea sets suddenly appear from the various cabinets, and are magically filled with delicious foods and drinks. Where did it come from?

Surely by now you realize that magic is in the air on Christmas Eve. Both toys and animals gain human abilities but only until midnight.

The noise and activities again reach fever pitch and no one seems to be noticing the time, which is ticking steadily away.

The music box is playing a dandy tune and other dolls come out of their cases and closets and begin to dance with bears and the tin soldiers, who just marched in.

The music becomes wilder and louder until the big clock in the meeting room starts to toll midnight.

Pandemonium! Costumes are changed; everything goes back into its place, well almost everything. The feast disappears (where did it go?); marks in coloring books disappear as well.

All seems in order as the last note sounds and quiet descends. The only light is from the street light outside the building.

But when Gertrude, who is in charge of the toys and dolls, comes in just after the holiday, and checks out the toys, she is mystified by the slight smiles on (of all toys) the furry faces of Ted and Todd.

And how to explain the breadcrumbs in the tiny teapot, and the fact that one of the dolls has her shoes on the wrong feet?

When she describes the strange things she is seeing in the room to the other members, behind her back some of the dolls and toys nudge each other and grin. And they'll never tell!

And that's why we will always have a Christmas past.

Miss Amy Lou Plumosis joins me in wishing all of you a wonderful and loving holiday.

Ruth S. Hummel is Plainville town historian and former president of the historical society. Her column, "History by Hummel," appears several times a month in The Plainville Citizen.