The
post below is written by my friend Paige who lives in Texas. She has kindly
written a few lines about how Christmas is celebrated in her family. Please
welcome Paige to the blog people!
Merry
Christmas from Paige and me!
The
Bilge Master
In my family, Christmas is not a day-
Christmas is a season. As a child, my
mother transformed the house. The décor
that filled the shelves, covered the walls and draped over the furniture were
all replaced come December with varying degrees of winter’s magic; a
snow-covered village on the table, an oversized stocking on the door, Santa
Claus in every room. Mom loves
Santa. He sits by the television
painting toys, his face smiles up at you from couch pillows, and he stands regally
atop the Christmas Tree, watching over us all.
The tree itself was most often artificial,
and Dad would drag it out from wherever it had been stored all year, untie
whatever was gripping the torn box closed, and set it up piece by piece in the
corner of the living room. He would then
drape lights all across the fluffed out branches (until pre-lit trees blessed
this world), hoping all the bulbs still worked after being unceremoniously
thrown into a box last January, left to tangle amongst itself. Once that was over, my mother would wrap the
tree like a present with a garland or ribbon.
Only then was the tree ready for ornaments.
The ornaments themselves were a personal favorite
of mine. Some were simple- a wooden cut
out of a nativity scene, for example.
Others were a bit jollier, like the three slice-of-life Santa’s Workshop
scenes depicting various stages of Santa’s day.
There were the homemade ornaments my siblings and I brought back
annually from elementary school, looking more and more tattered every
year. There were the ornaments that
predated my birth, personal favorites of my parents from their childhood (like
my late grandmother’s glass ornaments or my mother’s Garfield cat). Ornaments representing pets, hobbies and
birthdays filled the gaps, and the ceramic heart symbolizing my grandfather,
gone before I was able to meet him, meant a lot to my mother.
Christmas wasn’t just about the home
transformation, either. In the kitchen
was where we made our magic. My Grandma
and mother baked tons of cookies, from traditional cut-out sugar cookies (a
favorite with us children, who decorated them once they cooled) to gingerbread
men to cookies topped with cherries or chocolate kisses, to the nut filled ones
I avoided. All month our kitchen was filled
with the delicious scent of baking. It
would peak on Christmas day, where every morning my mother would make us all a
Monkey Bread cake, to eat whilst opening presents. In the most recent years the cookie baking
has died down, but every Christmas morning I help my mother make that Monkey
Bread, and every year our growing family eats it in the living room, surrounded
by gifts.
Traditionally for my family, Christmas Eve
was spent at my Grandmother’s house.
Her, my aunt, and my family spent the time together opening presents
from each other. There wasn’t a large
tree- my grandma had one, but it was only a few feet tall, and she would cover
it up with a trash bag every year for storage in the attic, ornaments and all-
but I do remember a golden bell she’d hang from the door frame. If you pulled the cord it would sing
carols. I loved it.
On the short drive back to our place my
parents would point out red dots in the sky and claim that it was Rudolph. We would beg them to drive faster, get us
home so we can get to bed! If Santa
comes and we’re awake, he won’t leave us presents! We would pile into the house, knocking the
snow off our shoes, and run to the computer.
Mom would pull up the Santa Tracker, and we would see exactly where he
was. It was a miracle we were able to
sleep.
One year I woke up early to my father
sleeping on the couch near the tree, our video camera propped up in the other
room pointing towards the front door.
When I woke him up he sleepily explained that he had fallen asleep trying
to catch Santa, and the video camera that he was hoping to record him on had
run out of batteries. Drat! Luckily, they were able to replace the
batteries and film us opening the presents the next morning. You know, since the camera was already there.
Something fun about Santa is that for our
house, he would use special Santa tags and wrapping paper. I didn’t notice it as much when I was
younger, but when I noticed that Mom and Dad’s presents came wrapped
differently, it was another magical charm that made Christmas special.
When you reach adulthood, Christmas
changes. Santa doesn’t bring adults
presents. But Santa doesn’t need
to. Because in adulthood, it is your
turn to play Santa.
Now, you get to buy presents for your loved
ones. You get to be responsible for
their smiles and happiness. And just as
you give, they give back. Christmas
becomes less centered on you and your joy, and more centered on the joy all
around.
We moved away from my Grandma many years
ago, but I still have a Christmas Eve tradition. My husband’s family always celebrates with
family gifts on Christmas Eve, just like we did as children. So every year, my husband and I buy gifts for
every niece and nephew that we have.
Sometimes we buy a present for every adult, and sometimes we play Secret
Santa, and we love to play a present swap game.
Everyone brings something for dinner, we have warm drinks, and when it’s
time to open presents the room becomes a chaotic explosion of wrapping paper
and cardboard.
My family gathers the morning of, while my
in-laws are opening Santa’s gifts at home.
My sister’s family gets a visit from Santa, and afterwards we gather
around our tree and swap presents we have bought each other. We always open presents in the same order-
youngest to oldest. Everyone sees what everyone opened, and opening in a round
gives us plenty of time to enjoy our hot, gooey Monkey Bread paired with egg
nogg or mimosas. It takes a while to get
through everyone, but that just means more time together as a family.
Some traditions stay the same over
time. New traditions form with age. Christmas is an ever flowing constant in my
life, and I love it even more as the years go by.
