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12:52:00 PM PST
Christmas to remember
This morning I woke up early while everyone was still in bed. I went to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of hot apple cider, and then took my seat in front of the Christmas tree. As I gazed at it, I saw the lights on the tree blinking, some in particular patterns, and others blinking randomly. It was only last Saturday we had cut this tree down, part of an annual tradition that started when I was a child. As a youngster, my father took us in the family van to the Christmas tree farm - not a mini-van like we see today, but a massive gas guzzling van capable of carrying 14 kids. We headed towards the hills because we knew there was one tree with our name on it waiting to be cut down. I wanted to give this same tradition to my children. When I look in my daughter’s eyes, I can see the same wonderment I felt as a child; I forsee the holiday traditions of my parents will be carried on for generations to come.
Christmas is the one holiday which can evoke such vivid memories of our childhood; it helps us reminisce about our youth with unparalleled passion. I continued to stare at the tree, and the lights began to blur; I began to think of some of the traditions my parents so fervently tried to preserve for us children to enjoy. Dad was responsible for putting the lights outside and on the tree. These were not the little lights you see hanging today that seem to break at the coming of each new season, but these were the big lights my parents most likely bought for their first Christmas and still had to the present day. I remembered how we decorated the tree once my father put the freshly cut tree in its stand. Mom made fake snow from the dish wash detergent “Ivory Soap”, and all of us kids, would run downstairs, fill our bowls with this soap, and slap it on the tree, under the branches, on top of the branches, and on the light bulbs. The soap on the bulbs had the effect of rubbing off some of the paint from the effervescent bulbs which gave them their color. When we were finished, the tree was suppose to give us some semblance of a tree covered in snow, but this was not normally the case; it usually looked like a mess. The tree was covered with ornaments (some homemade), popcorn strings, tinsel, and petrified Ivory Soap. It was a definitely a chaotic mess, but it was our mess, and it looked great.
The Christmas season was a magical time for me. I enjoyed listening to Bing Crosby and watching the specials on television. Since our TV did not go up to channel 9000, we had to conform ourselves to the three major networks. My two favorite shows were, “Frosty the Snowman” and “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer with Burl Ives”. Every year, IBM held an annual Christmas party for its employees and family. We looked forward to IBM’s annual Christmas party. Each child received a present directly from Santa himself – now for a kid, that was quite an honor..
My mother’s Christmas shopping season began as one Christmas season ended, and as the New Year began. How else can you buy Christmas presents for 14 children? To this day, I cannot understand why anyone would spend as much as she did on Christmas presents and give the credit to Santa. Every one of the gifts read, “From Santa”.
Yes! I was a die-hard Santa believer. It didn’t matter what anyone said, no one was going to change my belief. We did not have any chimney, however, but this was easily explained away. Santa arrived early to our house on Christmas Eve. We must have been special for Santa to arrive on Christmas Eve while everyone else had to wait for Christmas day. We were allowed to open one gift on Christmas Eve. When Santa arrived, we were all given a directive by our parents to go to our room and wait while Santa delivered the presents. The older kids were allowed out of the room to help Santa. We, as kids, would scramble to the windows peering out in hopes of seeing a glimpse of the reindeer. The older kids would sometimes ring bells or do other things to make believe Santa was really there. I don’t know when I stopped believing in Santa, but I do remember I enjoyed believing.
Most of us woke up very early on Christmas morning, and this of course was very frustrating to our parents; it was probably the only day, my 13 siblings and I kept our fighting to a minimum. We could not, however, open our presents right away. We had to first attend mass. We all lined up in a row, and Dad inspected our shoes – our shoes had to be polished so we could see our faces in them – this must have been a holdover from his military experience... We, then had to attend mass and eat breakfast before we opened the gifts – How much torture could one child endure?
Finally, time to open the gifts. We did not have normal Christmas stockings. My mother used nylon stockings that seemed to stretch endlessly, and each stocking brimmed with everything imaginable from the least expensive gadget to expensive watches. We once tried this with our kids, and it lasted one Christmas. It only took one Christmas to opine that if we continued with this tradition, we would need to file for bankruptcy at the end of each Christmas season.. In addition to the stockings, Santa gave us one big gift and another smaller gift, sometimes two.
Opening all those gifts was a daunting and exhaustive experience. The living room was cluttered from top to bottom with wrapping paper. The wrapping paper filled several garbage bags. The clean-up was never fun.
Aunts, uncles, grandparents, and other relatives would later arrive. The day was filled with the noise of children and the chatter of adults until the final repast befitting the day, and announcing the end of Christmas.
And now, the torch has been past, and it is our turn to give our kids these same traditions from Christmases they too will remember and someday my son or daughter will get up early one day during the Christmas season, pour a cup of hot apple cider, sit in front of a freshly cut tree and reminisce about the traditions we have passed to them.,
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12/23/04 5:02 PM