Christmas memories

[sam ellis]

I am sure we all have many happy Christmas memories but I was thinking how all of us, in different parts of the world, have a few memories that simply stick (funny or warm and fuzzy). Whether it is a once off occurrence or the family traditions.

One of mine that simply will never go away in my mind was years ago when I was a single mom. I (ermm Santa) had bought bicycles for the kids. The big one was in a store room and the other shoved under my bed, in a box. It was rather stuck. I pulled and pulled until my whole bed base collapsed. I tried very hard to DIY this bicycle - with brake wires and wheels. I LOL cos I really had to, til 4am and then unsuccessful collapsed into bed where I had to sleep with my head lower than my feet for the night.

But the kids loved the bikes !

Let's share some of your memories.

[muddygirl]

My strongest christmas memory is from when I was a young kid. I woke up really early on christmas morning and went to the lounge room and saw that Santa had been. He used to leave distinct piles of presents around the room, and you knew one pile would be yours. I remember going back out to my parents room and telling them that Santa had been and asking if we could open parcels. My Mum told me I could open one, but then I had to wait till everyone was up. I went back to the lounge and looked for my pile. I remember thinking that Santa must have run out of wrapping paper, because when I found my pile there was a big box that only had one piece of paper around the middle, and I could see that it was a Barbie Town House, and I was very excited, but I hadn't actually unwrapped that one, so I decided that I could choose another one to unwrap. I dont remember what was in the one I unwrapped, but I think I'll always remember the Barbie Town House.

[dugarner]

Well, does it have to be gift memories? One of my most distinct memories is a mixture of the same tradition we followed every year. When I was young, our church didn't have a Christmas Eve service, so we went to the United States Naval Academy chapel for their Lessons and Carols service. The Protestant and Roman services switched each year, one at 10 pm, one at 11 pm. My parents always got confused and could never remember which time our service was.

One year my grandmother and grandfather were with us. My grandfather was mischevious, energetic, and full of life. My grandmother was sophisticated, a little stiff, and very proper. My sister was 15 or 16, I can't remember, but young---definitely still in high school---and was entering her very rebellious stage.

We packed up to drive into Annapolis and when we got to the chapel, we saw that our service was at 11 pm, and it was only 9:30 pm. So we walked into town to get something hot to drink and maybe a snack. We walked into McGarvey's, a popular restaurant/saloon downtown. My grandmother was a bit appalled at spending an hour in a "saloon" (even though it had a great restaurant), but what was worse was when we walked in, the bartender hollered at my sister, "Hey, Jen! How are you?" My mom was a little confused at how a bartender in a bar knew my sister---he wasn't a family friend. She was kind of busted.

But each year we went, we would get dressed for church and my mom would have snacks for us. It's hard to eat dinner at 6 and not go to bed until 1 am without eating anything! We'd sit on the floor in our living room in our dresses, by the fireplace, and eat cheese, crackers, and summer sausage. Thus began my love affair with summer sausage. It's so bad for you, but SO good!

One year my mom, my sister, my dad, and my sister's fiance all gave me summer sausages for Christmas---and they didn't coordinate it. I ate summer sausage until I was sick of it! It took a few years before I wanted another one.

[digigrandma]

It's true, Sam, there are certain specific memories about Christmas that we never forget. I have many memories related to Christmas. I'll share one of them.

When I was growing up, our family opened our gifts on Christmas Eve and the gifts left under the tree from Santa after we went to bed that night were opened on Christmas morning, but, only after everyone in the family was up and ready to go downstairs together. Those gifts were not wrapped, but, were out in plain view (like Muddygirl's gifts were, also). When I was about nine years old I awoke very, very early and crept quietly in the dark downstairs to peek at my gifts from Santa. I looked at everything, including the gifts for my younger brother and sister and then crept back upstairs to my bed without waking anyone. When morning light finally came and we all went downstairs together, I pretended that I was surprised by my gifts. My acting ability was terrible, evidently, because my mother asked me several times if I liked my gifts. I felt awful that I had done this and from then on I never peeked early. Years later I confessed to my mother what I had done and that I had felt guilty ever since.

[earlofoxford]

What a fun thread, Sam! I love hearing everyone's Christmas memories.

One year our extended family on Mama's side gathered at my Aunt Jewell and Uncle Blanton's farm in Calera, Alabama, near Birmingham. It was a big old house and had a huge room that my aunt called the "glory hole" where all the kids slept at night. Of course, being from Florida, we hoped for a white Christmas, but it didn't happen. My aunt had told my mother before we went up that she had made bon bons, a yummy candy dipped in chocolate. Somehow, I never got any of the bon bons, and years later, my mother told me the adults would wait until the kids went outside to play and break out the bon bons. Too funny!

[dugarner]

Originally Posted by earlofoxford

It was a big old house and had a huge room that my aunt called the "glory hole" where all the kids slept at night.

Somehow, I never got any of the bon bons . . .

Linda, the "glory hole" is hilarious!!! That's what I should call the back of our house, where the kids go at night. Glory, hallelujah, they're in bed!

I should send you some holiday bon bons. Oh, and my parents had all kinds of "wait for the kids to go to bed" holiday treats. Usually involving alcohol and some sophisticated food that we wouldn't eat.

[sam ellis]

loving these stories

One year the 5 kids scratched in the cupboards before Christmas day and we found all the presents. We carefully opened them and saw what was inside. There was ONE transitor radio. We argued for ages who it was for. We all wanted it. So on Christmas morning when the infamous ( by now ) box was handed to "the boys" we all shouted and screamed and carried on. Damn - they got it. All this BEFORE it was opened.

Wonder what my parents thought

[cstaff]

When I was at that age of wanting to believe in Santa but not sure, I got my answer. I had been wanting a pair of cowboy boots but knew it wouldn't happen as boots were much too expensive for our family budget. My father was an insurance adjuster and we had gone to KC to the large warehouse of salvage goods that those in the industry had access too... salvaged from a fire or catastrophe but still "new". I found the boots I wanted but they were $7... just too much to spend. Then on Christmas morning, those boots were under my stocking with my name on them... from Santa. I had no doubt... Santa was REAL... my parents wouldn't spend that much money on something "not so practical". I still believe

[earlofoxford]

Originally Posted by cstaff

I had no doubt... Santa was REAL... my parents wouldn't spend that much money on something "not so practical". I still believe

LOVE this story -- gives me chills!

[sam ellis]

Originally Posted by earlofoxford

LOVE this story -- gives me chills!

me too.... I do think Santa is an awesome guy .

[cstaff]

Back to my previous post... the joy of this story to me is the love my parents had for me. They knew I wanted this one gift so badly so I'm sure they sacrificed something that was a necessity to give me what I "wanted". But this journey continues...

[home in ottawa]

So many wonderful Christmas memories here. My father used to call Santa on the phone and tell him that we were ready for bed and to have a safe trip. Did your Dad know Santa's phone number? There was the Christmas that we got a toboggan, what seemed like a million beautiful Barbie clothes and a walking doll each. Best Christmas ever! I thought that I was the luckiest kid in the world. Mum told me later that they couldn't afford to buy us presents so she had bought fabric remnants and made the doll clothes.

[carollee]

Not my memory but one relayed to me by mum, which I have scrapped for our family book. Her first Christmas as a new wife and she had her parents and my dad's parents around. She was really nervous cooking, wanting it to be perfect, and grandma (her mum) was in the kitchen with her.

She took the roast out of the oven and as she was transferring it to platter or whatever, she dropped it on the floor. Without a moments hesitation, grandma picked up the roast, dusted it off and plonked it on the platter so the others in the next room were none the wiser.

I love that story.

[cstaff]

What a terrific grandma... wonderful story Carol... yummy added flavor...

[krystav]

One of the memories that still brings a smile to my face, because it is just sums up my little brother perfectly.

My 3 year younger brother has Aspergers and is horrifically smart and black galled humoured at times.

When we were both kids, I think he was about 7, we were up in his room about 2 weeks before Sinterklaas (kinda our version of Santa). In the midst of playing with his Lego's he looked up at me and said out of the blue "I know Santa isn't the one bringing presents but that we get them from mum and dad, but we'd better not tell them I don't believe in Santa anymore, because I think the presents might stop then, and that would be a bad thing, right?"

He held up the pretence of believing in Santa for atleast another 3 years, then when my mother sat him down to tell him something important and said that Santa wasn't "real" he said, oh, but I've known that for years already, what was the important thing you wanted to tell me?

[Applechick]

I remember when I was about seven or eight saying to my cousin who is ten years older than me that someone at school said Santa didn't exist!

She looked at me for a while then said that she was really sad for those kids because Santa only brought toys to those kids who believed and if you didn't believe in him then the mums and dads had to do the present buying and pretend Santa brought them. WELL, that made perfect sense to me, because I just knew Santa was real and I liked the fact that we might all have gifts on Christmas morning but mine had been delivered by Santa and had been transported in a wonderful sleigh pulled by reindeers. From then on, when anyone sneered and said Santa wasn't real, I didn't argue I just felt terribly sorry they didn't have any magic in their life. My cousin's story was passed on to my children as well when they wavered and we NEVER ever have had the "got something to tell you" conversation - and they're 28 and 25 yrs old! LOL!!! Ah! I just love that sound of sleigh bells and impatient reindeers on the roof in the early hours of Christmas morning.........

Fiona

[carollee]

Oh actually I have another story. My dad played santa one year for a brass band he was in. He came up to the christmas party at the band room in the back of a red MG, very trendy santa was! I was there, a youngster, with my younger brother and the rest of the kids getting all excited seeing santa arriving. My dad had a specific mole on the back of his hand and when I saw it I screamed "that's not santa, that's my dad" and from all accounts I had every kid there in tears.

I can only just remember this incident, but it's relayed to me often enough. I have no idea how all the kids calmed down.

[whatnext]

my memory is a collection of the same story replayed year after year in the childhood home of mine that recently burned, then was completely torn down. when i visited it after the fire and looked into the broken back window, i was looking into the dining room and beyond that, the living room. what i saw in my mind's eye, looking through that broken glass, was the entire Polish side of my family, sitting together at three tables placed end to end, extending through both rooms. my grandfather, who lived with us, was at the head of the table, toasting everyone and looking a bit tipsy. all my aunts and uncles and cousins are there. and my mom and her sisters are running back and forth between the tables and the kitchen like a hyperactive waitresses. (funny. i can never remember my mom actually SITTING DOWN for Christmas Eve dinner.) after dinner i played the piano and we all sang carols, some in English, some in Polish. and one year, for some reason, i played Hava Nagila and all the girl cousins and aunts wound through the house, dancing. we sparkled. inexplicably, our lower middle class and immigrant sensibilities told us to imagine we had attained quite a lofty position in America and to wear ABSOLUTE finery for Christmas Eve. some of us even wore gowns.

oh, what fun it was. unfortunately, as the years went by all this faded into nothingness and my "Wigilia" (the Christmas Eve feast) will be only three people this year, but i will still make the twelve different traditional dishes and carry on the tradition that i hope my kids will remember and treasure.

[home in ottawa]

Fiona, love the take on Santa. I used the same thing with my daughter when her friend told her in kindergarten that Santa wasn't real.

Year before last, I was on call for Christmas. We got called in for a gentleman who was having a heart attack. He told us that he had been at a Legion Christmas party when the Santa Claus (with kids on his knee) suddenly grabbed his chest and keeled over. Our patient went over, found no pulse and started CPR. Parents were running around removing and comforting sobbing children and someone called 911. Our patient started to get sweaty and short of breath and when the Paramedics arrived, they pronounced Santa, and brought the rescuer to us. We opened a completely blocked artery and he survived. Can't imagine the conversations between those parents and young kids!

[cedarhil]

When I was young, I was very afraid of Santa, For several years, my parents would ask my Uncle to dress as Santa on Christmas Eve. I remember running to my bedroom actually screaming in fear. I also remember hearing my parents try to convince me to come out by telling me about the gifts Santa brought for me! I believe they quit asking him (Santa) to come because of me!

[susiecw]

When my girls were young we always had their presents wrapped and under the tree before Christmas. They would be opened on Christmas morning, BUT on Christmas Eve we would leave the house dark and go on a drive to look at lights or to a Christmas party. Our elderly neighbors would then go into our house; ditch the treats for Santa, turn on the tree lights and then put out all of Santa's gifts unwrapped, but tagged, under the tree. So when we would pull into our driveway later the girls would scream that Santa had been there and rush into the house to see their presents from Santa.

And, when Erin was four years old she only wanted a Clapper. Oh, the power of advertising. Well when she finally opened her Clapper she actually began crying tears of joy. It was so funny.

[earlofoxford]

A page in the gallery (sorry, but I can't remember whose) reminded me of one of my dad's cardinal rules at Christmas. This was when we had a real Christmas tree and hung the strands of tinsel on it. As kids, of course, we just wanted to throw the tinsel on in clumps. Daddy insisted, however, that we hang it strand by strand. And I have to admit, he knew what he was talking about; it definitely looked better his way.

[anke]

I remember one particular Christmas when we kids received a call from Santa. He had a really deep voice and we could hear chains and all kinds of noises in the background that reminded us of Santa's workshop. We all tried to figure out who was calling and suspected one of our neighbors for years later, but at the time we all started believing in Santa again!

[dugarner]

Originally Posted by earlofoxford

Daddy insisted, however, that we hang it strand by strand. And I have to admit, he knew what he was talking about; it definitely looked better his way.

We used to hang tinsel when I was a kid, too, and I hated doing it because it was so time-consuming and really frustrating. Luckily, our cat took a liking to it, and when he almost met his Maker while gagging on some of it, we stopped using it.

[kb7496]

We have a wonderful tradition involving the "12 Day Of Christmas". We have hand-painted ceramic plates created by my hubby's grandma, each a different scene from the song. On Christmas dinner, we gather round the table and each person sings their part of the song, as determined by the plate set before them.... Uncle Tom is always the fifth day and he sings with quite a flourish! Setting the dining room table with them this morning....

[DonnaNJ]

Originally Posted by kb7496

We have a wonderful tradition involving the "12 Day Of Christmas". We have hand-painted ceramic plates created by my hubby's grandma, each a different scene from the song. On Christmas dinner, we gather round the table and each person sings their part of the song, as determined by the plate set before them.... Uncle Tom is always the fifth day and he sings with quite a flourish! Setting the dining room table with them this morning....

What a fun tradition!