Christmas, oh, how my memories race when I think of that most glorious of holidays. Though we were far from rich, Mom and Dad always managed to save some extra money for important events, especially Christmas.
As a child my memories are filled with sights, sounds and colors. The joyful greetings as we entered one another’s homes, Christmas carols on the record player, the happy buzz of conversation, the sounds of dinner, silverware clanking, crockery rattling, the clink of toasts being made with the fancy wine glasses used at no other time of the year along with the shouts and laughter of children as we played.
And the bright colors that seemed to leap out at you in your youth! Everything was bigger and brighter it seemed with a special power to impress. Brilliant bulbs framed in snow and icicles hanging from the eves in the winter’s darkness as we went to Granddads. The Christmas wreath with its deep green pine needles and contrasting red and white bulbs, the aromatic Christmas tree itself covered with shimmering lights, glistening foil icicles and decorative bulbs of every color and size. On our home tree my own very special, extra-large red bulb with a white square with my name written on it hung. It was given to me when I was just a baby and I was especially proud of it. In fact I still have it after all these years.
Decorating the tree was a family affair. First, a special dinner with the family and then we all surrounded the tree. Everyone was obligated to hang at least one bulb. Of course, there wasn’t room for everyone around the tree all at once, most of the adults, drink in hand, sat and offered constructive criticism which was often loudly rejected by those braving the sharp needles. It was amazing how much controversy and contradictory advice could take place over the positioning of the angel on the topmost branch of the tree.
Often it lasted for some time and usually only ended when the person placing the angel gave up in disgust and left the angel in the position he or she felt was best. Rarely was it changed, but my brother sometimes was adamant on some minute detail and no one ever challenged his decision since he was so passionate about it.
Once the tree was up and decorated things really became interesting for it was then presents began appearing. My brother and I along with our cousins followed this process very carefully. Every present was examined in great detail. If our name was on the package it was carefully weighed, shaken and contemplated upon. We quickly learned which of the gifts were most likely to be shirts, pants or socks. These were despised of course and quickly cast aside. But other, odd-shaped or heavier packages were of the greatest interest and scrutinized intently.
Grandma Hayes seemed to be the chosen tree warden and any undue attention to gifts such as trying to peek under the paper, excess shaking or other skullduggery drew her ire and we were promptly scolded and chased away. She had some type of sixth sense; I swear, you couldn’t get away with a thing. She tried to appear stern and foreboding, but couldn’t always hide her smile at our clumsy attempts to guess what was inside our packages. Looking back I truly believe she loved to see our excitement and curiosity. Having lived through the depression she was appreciative of the bounty we were able to enjoy at that time.
Since Granddad loved the holiday atmosphere and gathering of his entire family he always treated everyone to several special meals. I was always hungry back then and loved each and every dish. Sirloin steak, prime rib, roasts, shrimp, oysters and oyster stew, clams and lobster. Being an excellent chef he often did the cooking himself, at least the main entre, the women usually providing the side dishes.
But, even better, after we kids had all eaten ourselves half sick came dessert. The hardest part was deciding which dessert to eat! There was always pie, pumpkin, apple and cherry were regulars, but my Mom often made chocolate and lemon meringue pies as well. Oh, her chocolate meringue pie! I can still taste it! Rich and smooth, so flavorful. And the lemon meringue was sweet at first, but then just tart enough to leave a clean taste in your mouth. I loved them.
But pies were just the start. Cookies; oh my, so may to choose from and all handmade. Sugar cookies, ginger, pumpkin iced, oatmeal, peanut butter blossoms, buckeyes, Oreo balls rolled in chocolate along with chocolate chip.
Of course there were the holiday breads: Grandma Robertson’s Swedish oatmeal bread, zucchini, banana nut and a delicious white bread we loved to slather with butter right out of the oven.
It was tough to sleep on Christmas Eve. The adults would hustle us off to bed and then talk loudly and keep us awake. Sometimes we’d get up at 4 a.m. and try to feel our way around the tree to see what Santa has brought, but Grandma Hayes always intercepted us early on. Would morning ever come?
Oh, it all seems so close and yet so far away, those days of my youth. I wish you all the happiest of holidays and a better 2021.
