An Old Fashioned Christmas

There is a strong possibility that the youth of today have no idea how Christmas "used to be," back in the "olden days." Now, remember, to the youth of today, that might be ten years ago. Or less. In the modern age of technology and electronics, the history and memories of the season may be fading. While some families pass along traditions, there are many who do not know of any type of celebration other than what they experience as December rolls around.

This story is the sharing of Christmas's long ago, from the memories of residents of our area, who have 80 years or more chalked up in life. Perhaps you can share your own memories with your children, grandchildren and even great-grandchildren this season.

In the case of Myrtle Hould, life was taken for granted. Read on for enlightenment.

Growing up in a family of ten was not only a challenge, it was also the life many families knew. Large families were almost a given. Sons were groomed to work the farms and fields, while daughters tended to cooking, canning, gardening and laundry. Many things were shared on the farm. Often, the homes were so small, that IF you can imagine it – one had to SHARE their bedroom.

Work was work and there seemed to be little time to play. When Christmas rolled around we always had a program at the school and we girls all wore dresses; sometimes we got new dresses that mama sewed. We looked beautiful. All dressed up, we wore brown socks that were held up by a garter, it was something we always looked forward to.

I had a pretty good voice and enjoyed the singing of carols and the program.

Our Christmas tree was usually one of those that some would perceive as a "Snoopy tree," scraggled branches that were far apart and downright unattractive. But it WAS a tree, and we gathered around it as if it were one that came oh-so-close to being selected to be erected at the White House. Well, regardless, if we had one, we enjoyed it, but more times than not the "tree" we adored with pride was nothing more than a thistle. And if we were lucky, it was a big one. After all, it had to have some size for all of us to gather 'round. But on the other hand, in the little shacks we called home, there was little space left to prop it up anyway.

We were satisfied with what we had. After all, as some have said...we were all poor...we just didn't know it. For indeed, the scrawny thistle was decorated with red crepe paper and we sat around in the quiet of the evening and when a batch of popcorn was popped, we would sit and string popcorn and make our tree decorations. Like some families, there was a star that papa always placed, as a finishing touch to the festivities, on the top of the tree or thistle. And our eyes would light up and glow like glass on a snowbank. If things had been pretty good this year, mama would bring out some cranberries and we would string some and add those, and our hearts were filled with the spirit of Christmas.

Living 15 miles from the Canadian border, the winters were always cold and usually miserable. Our stockings were hung next to the wood burner and we always looked forward to checking them out first thing in the morning. Of course, my brothers would often put a piece of coal in us girls' stocking; they were giggling and smirking as we felt the stockings and I am sure we looked disappointed when we discovered them. Brothers! They were something else.

Adding to the tree, in later years when papa had some money, we had a box of tinsel. We saved it from year to year, placing it ever so gentle on the tree...one strand at a time...and taking as much care to remove it carefully and placing it back in the box.

The gifts, if we had any that year, were opened on Christmas Eve. Gathering around the tree was an art all by itself, we were happy just being together. Sometimes all we had to share were things we had made to give to each other, sometimes we only had homemade cards to make for each other.

My favorite gift I recall receiving was a ring from mama; now that I am older, I think she probably bought it at a five-and-dime store – it made my finger turn green! But I wore it with pride, and to this day have a fondness for jewelry.

Bedtime was always at nine, and we didn't stay up later just because it was Christmas. We put out a plate of cookies and donuts and decorated sugar cookies with reindeer on them. Somehow, magically Santa found us every year and they were gone in the morning. I must have been nine or ten before I knew Santa had "help" in making the goodies disappear, but I still believe in Santa today. We had been told he just came in the air, with his sleigh and a reindeer with a red nose.

Our family looked forward to spending the day with extended family and friends - we would go sledding; years later when we moved to the valley we skated on the river. It was at our skating I met the young man that would, in years to come, become my husband.

My most memorable Christmas was any we spend with family; I loved it when all ten of us were together, they were special times. I loved it when family came when I was a youngster and then sharing it with our kids and grandkids as the family grew. The trees became more decorated through the years, more lights and brighter! Mama was a great cook, we raised chickens and for Christmas dinner she'd cook up a slue of them...enough for the twelve of us and all the company that stopped.

No one needs a reminder of the holiday, especially when your partner for life escapes the grasps of life as we know it and quietly slips away on Christmas Eve to spend it with Jesus.

My message to families would be to share the word about the birth of Jesus at Christmas with the ones growing and make sure they know it is not just about "gifts". We were given the greatest gift.

The word "FAMILY" has a true meaning.

Father And Mother I Love You. Maybe instead of worrying about what "gift" you NEED, share time with your children and grandkids; tell them the stories of long, long ago.

The older generations are just like libraries, engage in a conversation with them and make your own memories.