Christmas contentment

Even at my advanced age, I’m a Christmas baby. I love everything about it — except the pressure to shop — and I look forward to all the traditional details that have been part of my life since childhood.

My Dad would put the tree in a crock with coal in it to keep the water sweet. The trees were skinny things in the 1950s; they weren’t gussied up by being pruned and sheared, and they weren’t sprayed with fire retardant; often they were Charlie Brown trees, but well-loved to be sure. We put bubble lights on it, which mesmerize me still, and I have one working one left.

We couldn’t put the tree up until about 10 days before Christmas. There would be few presents under it until Santa arrived, but on Christmas Eve, after the service, we could open one package, which would be our new matching pyjamas or nighties, and the five of us would line up under our stockings, or in front of the tree, and Dad would take our picture. It was hard to go to sleep then, and we woke early to see what Santa had brought.

There would be an orange in the toe of each stocking, and some candies or nuts, and some small gifts. We were allowed to open our Santa gifts early, but any from family members had to wait until midday when grandparents or other family members arrived. We had to eat breakfast, too, not just tie into the candy. We were always having to wait for something, and I was so excitable! I could scarcely stand to wait until they all gathered in the living room, and we couldn’t understand why they weren’t excited to get to the presents.

I love the music of Christmas, even the junky old reindeer songs and some of the modern pop songs. I love the lights, and had so many up one year my son, approaching the house, said it looked like post-nuclear glow. I love the movies, and try to see the original Christmas Carol every year. I love the food, and still make the same sugar cookies, shortbread and Christmas cake that have been staples of the season since my childhood. The first orange of the year still gives me a tingle.

As I decorate my tree with some old trinkets, handmade children’s ornaments and angels from the Christmas service of prayer and remembrance, sometimes I shed tears. We still have a gold bell with a music box in, that plays Silent Night when you pull the cord. I bought it when my first child was a baby. That one can make me cry.

I love Boxing Day, playing games, relaxing, eating leftovers that taste even better than the day before, playing with kids’ toys and, if possible, playing in the snow. What could be cuter than a child with runny nose, red cheeks, shining eyes and a huge smile, after a toboggan ride?

A lot of the things I’ve mentioned so far are just things, and I know Christmas happens even without them, but they sweeten the holiday so much. Higher on the list than these “things” are the family members who gather, the loving hugs, the laughter, the shared memories and shared meals. And even higher on the list than that, is the blessed Christmas story, and the realization once again that God is with us, and we may have peace and hope and joy and love in our hearts, even when we are not surrounded by family.

May we never forget the reason for the season, and may the beloved story warm us and buoy us up, even though we might be alone. God bless us, every one!