By BARBARA SIMPSON
As the days have drawn closer to December 25 — I can’t help but step back in my memories to my own Christmases past. That day, with both religious and secular activities, has always held an important place in our family and certainly in my life as I grew up and older.
I was born and raised on the East Coast, and it was a rare winter that we didn’t have one or more blizzards. My parents hated them — roads blocked and driveways to shovel. But I loved them — all the kids did, and our dogs were in their glory.
I remember one Christmas blizzard in particular when the snow was easily three feet deep in the field in front of our house. Silkey, Queenie, and Shep were in their glory. The snow was too deep for them to walk or run normally. The only way they could get around was to literally jump up and down.
It was the funniest thing I ever saw and unfortunately, I don’t have any movies of it. But I do have the memory picture of them leaping across the field as though they had springs on their feet and grabbing mouthfuls of snow in the process. They were happy, and so was I. The memory still makes me smile.
It was the beginning of a Christmas Day I will never forget.
Another aspect of Christmas that is deeply embedded in my memory has to do with food. My grandparents on both sides were from Europe and they brought their own traditions to this country — activities, prayers, and food! For adults, the Christmas holiday was filled with all that the grandma in the kitchen could and would, produce for our enjoyment.
I don’t know how they did it. They didn’t have all the modern technology we enjoy today — they used basic utensils and, in several cases, cooked on a wood-burning stove with the result being a meal fit for a king. And, in addition to the appetizers and the main course, the desserts were the answer to any child’s dream!
My mouth still waters with the memories. My grandmas spoiled their children and grandchildren — cooking up their favorite foods. They often had several main courses and more, so that each of us could revel in the delicious holiday foods they made with love.
While Santa arrived in our house every year, we spent that day with one grandma and that wing of the family and the next day — or sometimes the Christmas Eve — with the other grandma and her family. We never did get both sides of the family together at the same time as they lived miles apart and travel then was difficult.
I admit, that for the children — myself included — that wasn’t a problem. For us, it meant several big Christmas celebrations and fun!
Despite the hard work preparing and getting together, those days were filled with love and happiness and were made to order for children.
I bless the memories I have, especially because most of those people are gone now. I pray that my children have good memories of their childhood holidays even though their times and circumstances were different than mine.
Lest you are wondering — no, we did not ignore the reason for the season — the Birth of the Christ Child. One grandmother had a veritable altar of religious statuary in her home, and she lit candles there daily.
For Christmas, those statues of the saints, Mary, Joseph, and the Christ, were front and center along with the Nativity statuary placed beneath the Christmas tree and clearly were the center of her (and our) devotions.
We always had a tree — back then, there were no fake trees! We lived in the country, and every year, my father, brother, and I trooped through the woods behind our house to find just the right tree for that year. My father chopped it down and we dragged it home through the snow, followed by the dogs who thought it was all a game just for them!
In our house, we always put the tree up on Christmas Eve. The fresh-cut pine made the house smell beautiful and it lasted until after New Years’ Day, when we took it down.
Of course, it would not have been Christmas for us without Christmas Eve Mass. We lived 10 miles from town and the church we attended, St. Mary of the Lake, was (is) a beautiful relic of the days of the Latin Mass and the ornate churches we had then.
I have so many memories of that church — Sunday Masses, Communion classes, First Holy Communion, Confirmation, Sunday school. And yes, even Marriage. Those memories will never leave me but most of all, I remember Christmas Eve Masses.
For that Mass, the Church was packed. Every seat was taken and ever spot for standing was taken. Catholics came from miles around but so did another group — Jewish people.
The town I lived in was (and still is) predominantly Jewish in population. We all got along with no problem that I was aware of. Most of my school friends were, and still are, Jewish.
While they had their own houses of worship, when it came to Christmas Eve Mass — a High Mass with all the beauty and pomp and music of the Latin Mass — hundreds of Jewish people were there. Not for the religious aspect of Catholic worship — but for the beauty of a religious ceremony. They were respectful of what we shared. They were there to appreciate a ceremony that Catholics today don’t even know about because of the changes to the Mass.
I miss that — meaning the Latin Mass, and all that entails. I fear that we Catholics have lost something vital for our faith and what the future holds is a bit ominous. The way we worship is different today and for our children. As a result, I see in them a lack of reverence for the worship traditions we had and have since discarded.
I pray this year, and every year, that we might resume what we had years ago so that we might worship our Lord as we did and with the love and reverence He deserves, on Christmas and every other day.
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