Whenever I think of traditions, my mind goes to Topal singing "Tradition" in the film "Fiddler On The Roof". When Topal sings that magical song you can truly feel the importance of traditions in life. We all have traditions of one kind or another. Christmas traditions though are some of the best kept traditions as each family creates their own in order to celebrate the season.
As I was growing up, our family had some very specific traditions that my parents followed in order to while making Christmas a magical time for us kids, also held our Christian beliefs were emphasized so that we remember why we are celebrating this special day.
It started by going out to buy a Christmas tree at a local lot. Artificial trees were never under consideration. The tree never went up immediately after Thanksgiving but rather somewhere between two and three weeks before Christmas. Dad made our Christmas tree stand using his welding skills to create what had to be the heaviest and sturdiest stand in all of Kansas City. One thing was for sure. Once dad had put that tree in the stand and had it clamped, standing straight and tall, the tree was not going anywhere. Once the tree was up, it was up to dad to untangle the strings of lights and check out the bulbs for those who had burnt out somehow over the year while in storage in the garage. This was not an easy task. It seemed that no matter how careful dad had put the strings of lights away the previous year, the entanglement that he found the lights in was excruciating. Dad would spend an hour or so getting the wires loose from each other. Then came the task of replacing the bulbs. Now these were big glass incandescent bulbs and if one burned out, then the who string would go dark. In order to find the offending bulb, you had to replace bulbs one at a time with a known good bulb until suddenly as dad screwed in a bulb, the whole string lit up in a colorful display that lit the whole living room. Putting the lights on the tree had a certain process. Dad would instruct me to go stand at the top of the stairs while he placed the strings on the limbs of the tree. When he got to the back of the tree, he would hand me the string of lights to pull around the back of the tree and hand back to him on the front of the tree slowly wrapping the tree in lights from top to bottom.
While dad was doing all of this, mom and my siblings were busy popping popcorn and running a needle and thread through the kernels to create strings of pop corn, which would be handed off to dad to wrap the tree in the same way he had done the lights. Many injuries were inflicted upon those trying to push a needle through a popcorn kernel. The fingers would heal before Christmas though and would be forgotten. Foil "icicles" we placed on the tree ... one string of foil at a time. One .... at ... a ... time .... Mom oversaw the placing of these little strips of foil to be sure that none of us cheated by putting more than one ... at ... a .... time.... on the tree. (sigh)
Then the family ornaments came out. They were the same ones every year and each holds specific images. One set of decorations were plastic balls with "Angle Hair" stuffed inside. The angle hair was very fine strands of fiberglass that, we were warned, would cut your fingers open if not handled carefully. Fun time. The ornaments could attack you while decorating the tree. Included in the ornaments were ones that each of us had made at school, at church or at home. Each of us hung our own ornaments on the tree as it slowly became the magical looking tree that would stand through New Years Day.
Christmas Eve at the Clark house was not only full of excitement, but also full of reverence for the holiday. Mom always laid a bible next to our little Nativity Scene that we had set up. It was always open to Luke Chapter 2. This is the chapter that tells the story of the birth of Christ and the visitation of Angels to shepherds in their fields to bring them the Good News. On Christmas Eve, before we went off to bed, the family would sit and listen as my mother read the Scripture from the book of Luke. It was followed by a prayer and sometimes a discussion about what had been read. We went to bed with that story in our heads and the true meaning of the holiday was remembered by the whole family.
Christmas morning at the Clark household was torture. We kids could not leave our room until mom and dad awoke and gave us the go ahead to go downstairs to see what was under the tree. I don't think we ever found out what would happen if we had left our rooms before getting the ok from dad. There was too much at stake to take that chance.
When mom and dad finally came out of their sleep we would WALK, not run, down the stairs and Christmas began. After seeing what Santa had left us, one of us would be assigned to hand out the presents under the tree. Before we could play with anything though, wrapping paper had to be cleaned up and the house had to be in order.
While we were picking up paper and beginning to play with our toys, mom was in the kitchen baking apple and cherry turnovers. That was a tradition that took place every year. As for myself, I would be in the living room munching on my mom's pecan tassies and was pretty full by the time the turnovers were ready to eat. All too soon, we had to stop everything and get dressed to visit the grandparents.
We usually visited my Aunt Fay and Grandma Clark in the afternoon. The Clark family and the Hill family were very different. At my grandma Clarks, sometimes we ate, most times we didn't. We would especially enjoy it of my Aunt and Uncle from Colorado were visiting. Sometimes the Clark Christmas dinner was held at my Aunt Norva's place which was bigger and could handle the size of the gathering. I really don't remember any traditions at my grandma Clarks. It was usually a low keyed affair with the adults talking among each other and the kids trying to keep entertained. To be honest, it always seemed to me that the biggest holiday for the Clarks was Memorial Day. Definitely some big traditions for that day in the family.
In the evening it was off to my Grandma and Grandpa Hill's place. I think what made the difference between the Clark Christmas and the Hill Christmas was my Grandfather's love for the holiday. He absolutely LOVED Christmas and it was filled with family traditions. From my grandma's candied figs to the eggnog set out on the buffet. There were two punch bowls of eggnog set out. On one end was the eggnog for the kids, the other end was "adult" eggnog. Took me a long time to figure out what the difference was between the two.
Let's take a half step back concerning my grandfather. One of the traditions he did was to entertain any of the grandchildren when they happened to visit on the few days before Christmas by reciting "A Visit From St. Nicholas" otherwise known as "The Night Before Christmas" It was one of his biggest joys in life. I remember several times being over there because we would go down to the Frisco to pick Grandpa up after work. After Grandpa had cleaned up, we would sit on the floor as he told the story, his eyes sparkling through the entire poem which ha knew by heart and told it as a true story teller. IT was magic. In 1982 my sister came up for Christmas and we took Brett, Bo and Kim over to visit my grandfather on Christmas Eve. As Brett sat on Grandpa's lap and Bo and Kim sat on the floor listening to the old man tell the tale, my mind was carried away to a time when I sat where Bo and Kim were, hearing him tell the story with as much fun and love as he was doing that day. It was another tradition that the old man created more for himself, I think, than for the grandkids.
Christmas night at the Hill's was about the same every year but special in it's own way. There was a Christmas goose on one end of the table and a turkey on the other. Creamed potatoes, oysters, home made cranberries among many other dishes that were presented every year. The dinner would be followed by "discussions" about politics or college football or the Chiefs. Sometimes these discussions got rather loud. I remember Grandma leaving the turkey out and while the discussion was going on, my Uncle Melvin would be picking at the turkey eating the whole time while my Uncle Buster would constantly have a plate full of pie. Like Buster would have four or five slices of different pies which he ate at one time. Pumpkin, Cherry, Apple, Pecan, Mincemeat .. it didn't matter. If it was pie, Buster would have a slice on his plate.
Slowly things would start to quiet down and the families would begin to head back to their homes. When we got home Christmas night, we were too tired to play with any games or toys. Christmas had been celebrated for another year and families had come together on both my father's and my mother's side and it was good. It seemed to be over all too early.
When I got married and began my life on my own, I found Barb and myself slowly developing our own traditions. That is the thing about traditions I guess. You can not plan out traditions, but rather the traditions kind of create themselves as you go through the years and find yourself doing the same things from year to year. My little family traditions started as a combination of Barb's traditions merging with my traditions that we brought together. Apple and Cherry turnovers on Christmas morning were replaced by cinnamon rolls and coffee cake. Instead of Brett waiting patiently for his parents to be roused from their sleep, Barb and I found ourselves waiting patiently for Brett to awaken. Sometimes Barb had to stop me from going into his room to wake him up. We bought one Christmas album every Christmas so we always had new music to listen to. Slowly we developed our own collection of family ornaments that became a part of Christmas. Barb brought the tradition of little toys being placed in the Christmas stockings which was totally foreign to me. My Christmas stocking was always fruit and nuts.
Now, at this point in my life, it seems all the traditions have died. Mom and dad moved to Alabama. Brett is off on his own and I am never quite sure when he will make his way over to my house. Barbara has passed and with her, it seems the joy of Christmas left with her. I do listen to Christmas music on quiet nights when it is only the dog and me. I listen to the songs my father loved and the songs that Barbara loved. My last three Christmas' have been quiet and tame. No Christmas tree has been put up and decorated. I have no need for it. It was Barb's Christmas tree. I set it up for her and she and Brett decorated it. Gone is the excitement that Christmas morning use to bring.
But you know, I do enjoy Christmas. It is different than it use to be for sure, but it has become a time of reflection for me. I think back on my life and how blessed I have been. I can sit back and see my grandfather in my mind holding my son on his lap as he told his Christmas Story of St Nick. I can see my mother in the kitchen getting those turnovers ready to eat. I can look back at all the times that I sat and watched Brett and Barb go through the ornaments one by one. I can open my Bible to Luke, Chapter 2 and as I read the story of the first Christmas, hear my mothers voice reading it.
No Christmas is not what it use to be. It has morphed along with the years and the events in my life into something totally different. But it is still magic. It is still good. It is still a special day and most important, it is still a celebration of the greatest Gift that God has given to mankind.
That is how I celebrate now at this point in my life. I guess it is a tradition in it's own way.
Have a Merry Christmas. Have hope for a good New Year.
