|
The News from Bird Bottom Farm
When Christmas Took Forever to Come
By Ursula B. G. Kilner, Salisbury
As the years fly by, Christmas comes with frightening frequency. We all (at least almost all) remember thinking Christmas took almost forever to come 'round again each year. Now here it is again, very nearly upon us! Is anyone ready for Santa Claus? Some of us know a few frighteningly organized people who have all the presents they are going to deliver or send all wrapped and their Christmas cards addressed.
When I was eight years old the Christmas tree decorating became my "job," and soon after I was wrapping all the presents (except those for me). I loved decorating the tree, which was in the hall stairwell, especially as I could climb the stairs and put decorations on even the top branches—all with no help. Once I got the lights on I next tackled the ornaments, which had "rested" in the attic since the previous Christmas. They went on very quickly, as they nestled in boxes sized to fit each kind of ball or bell or gingerbread house, so I wasn't faced with sorting odd-sized ornaments. The very top (I guess now these ornaments at the tree's top are called "toppers") was decorated last with a silver spire glass ornament; if the top of the tree was too thick I had to have someone with a sharp knife trim it to fit the ornament. The tree, my tree, was always beautiful—I thought.
My mother did one thing each Christmas—something she had learned from her mother—making popcorn balls. Nowadays popcorn balls seem to be available wherever Christmas foods are sold. But "way back then" we made our own. Mother hated cooking, but she popped corn well; the kernels came in a box and were popped in a special pan with a stirring sort of paddle that went through the pan's cover. (That served two purposes—the top kept the kernels from leaping out of the pan, and the stirring paddle kept the kernels on the bottom from burning.) I remember stirring a sweet sticky syrup, which was poured hot over the popped corn. Then, using our hands quickly so we didn't get burned by the hot syrup, Mother and I scooped out handfuls of popped corn with the hot syrup on it and quickly made balls of the mixture, tossing each ball from hand to hand. It was hot! The balls made a good-sized mound on a silver tray—anyone coming by during the season was invited to take one (or more). By New Year's Day the popcorn balls were a memory.
We all—practically the whole town—went to the Christmas pageant on the hill in front of the Gramatan Hotel. A real live donkey was ridden to the stable (which was erected especially for this occasion) by a high school senior playing the role of Mary. (Mary was selected by the school faculty, as was Joseph.) There were shepherds with real sheep and, of course, everyone was in costume. To this day I don't know where the donkey and sheep came from—we lived in a suburban town and there were no farm animals, as there were town rules against harboring beasts other than dogs and cats. Dogs, of course, had to be licensed, and a town official came to each house checking to be sure every dog was licensed. I wonder if he ever was bitten.
But to get back to the pageant … after the creche had been lighted up to indicate that Baby Jesus had been born, the shepherds, wise men, donkey and sheep gathered around the creche and the high school band played familiar carols. The band certainly could not have competed with the Philharmonic, but the songs brought memories and words to our lips. The town showed up in force and everyone sang, some joyfully and some with a few reminiscent tears. All in all, the pageant proved over the years to be something none of us would miss. (Two of my friends "played" Mary in different years, which made the pageant special for me.) In later years the pageant was moved to the sloping lawn of the Dutch Reformed Church, as there proved to be much more room for everyone, including the band. Come to think of it, maybe a church lawn was more appropriate for the pageant than a hillside by a hotel.
We all went caroling—especially at houses where someone was sick or elderly. It did not matter what anyone had as a religious connection, we all just enjoyed the caroling and camaraderie, particularly if the night was clear and the sky bright with stars.
Now, as I look back, I see those years as a time of simple pleasures and innocence before WWII, Korea, Vietnam, and subsequent conflicts. Everything seemed quiet, safe and comfortable with friendship abounding. I guess the saying "Everything changes" rings all too true. Although we still have Christmas holiday events and services, the handmade gifts, homemade cookies and even family-decorated trees seem to have become rare.
The Christmas (and other faiths’ celebrations) season remains a special time—it just comes 'round faster than it did when I was a child.
|
|
