Christmas time was not very dramatic at our house when I was
growing up. My mom and dad were very poor, for sure when I was a preschooler.
But I remember distinctly one gift mom made Bren and I. They were beautiful
homemade dolls with yarn hair, black for Bren and brown for me. Those dolls had
almond shaped eyes painted perfectly on their face and dimples in their cheeks.
Plus, they each came with two gingham dresses, a slip, and pantaloons. My mom
made us loads of peppernuts at Christmas. We helped roll out the logs to just
the right size and then she froze them. Then we’d all cut peppernuts and bake many
a panful and freeze the tiny little cookies in an ice-cream pail until
Christmas. Of course, mom let us snitch a few. My mom and dad were never big on
giving gifts at Christmas but we always read the bible story out of the Egermeier’s
bible story book and everyone sang Christmas carols. My mom sang like a bird,
all the Christian Hymnal Christmas songs plus all the songs she heard in town,
because she could hear a song once and sing it.
Christmas family gatherings were the very best as a child
and even a teenager. We would drive a few hours when I was young to get to Grandpa
and Grandma Isaac where I had oodles of boy cousins, the baking was decadent
and Grandma’s jar of hard candies sat free and open to everyone. I remember
gift exchanges and men playing crokinole and lots of loud boys in the basement.
We also went to my Grandpa and Grandma Eidse for gatherings with oodles of girl
cousins. We adored our ‘Grandma Eidse’ sleepovers where we would eat chips late
into the night and look through Aunt Esther’s Stuff and play games of Pit and
Life and Blitz and all manner of dress-up. We always brought special songs and
poems and verses at both family gatherings and everyone loved it except us
kids.
Christmas in my teenage and youth years was the best; those
pretty new dresses, school party days, candies and gifts and singing. Singing
has always been special to me, but when I got converted I would cry (I still
do) over the beautiful messages of hope and cheer and Jesus birth. Bringing
Christmas programs out when I was in youth was the highlight of all time. We
took a full Saturday every year and all the youth got on a bus and drove to
High Prairie and McClennan and brought the program to four different old folks’
homes. We also got to go out for pizza when we were done. We brought our
program to two or three homes in Grande Prairie and two places in Valleyview,
our Home in Crooked Creek and finally to church on the 25th where
half of the group was neighbours. We were such a big youth group, between 40 to
60 youth, that the program always went well and it didn’t really matter if one
or two people were missing.
After we got married, I realized that Christmas time doesn’t
always mean huge drifts of snow and layers of white on evergreen trees. I
realized that some places didn’t go Christmas Eve carolling and that the strong
winds of Saskatchewan were actually colder than the northern stillness of
Alberta. For the first time in my life Christmas became wistful. Nostalgic. I
cried with lonesomeness. I missed my cousins. I missed my people. But I got to
know new people. I got to celebrate Christmas on the second Sunday in December
by new friends in a little church where the youth group was tiny and everyone
was gone on Christmas Day. I got to
travel to new places over Christmas time and meet large groups of people who I
knew nothing about.
Our family’s little traditions are mirrored after both our
parental homes. We like to have a special meal together and read the bible
story about baby Jesus as a family. We sometimes exchange gifts but not always.
We get together with Pat’s family and my family but rarely with the larger
Grandpa/Grandma families. We listen to the school Christmas programs and dress
our boys in new button-front shirts for the occasion. We have candy bags
drifting around the house, peanuts in the garbage and stacks of peppernuts in
the freezer. We often travel at Christmas, with loads of winter gear piled up
the back window, hockey sticks and skates in tow and coolers of food arranged
under pillows and backpacks. We sing Christmas carols; we hug our Grandpas and
Grandmas and we wait.
And in the stillness here and there we meet Jesus. Love.
Good will. Joy. Peace.
