For the most part, the television set has been turned off for the past two days, except for tuning in to watch “Home Alone,” a movie that is destined to become a classic. There is something about repetition during the holidays that is comforting. For example, my (late) mother always served orange sherbet topped with cranberry juice, in a tall glass, and with a straw, and ice tea spoon, just like clockwork, every Thanksgiving and every Christmas. Even though we never had that treat at any other time, it is a wonder we didn’t, as it is so refreshing.
There are just so many traditions that my family adhered to, over the years, some of those lost with the passing of my own parents, and other customary habits changed for other reasons. When I was a child, my mother and I would take the bus and travel to downtown Manchester, New Hampshire to do last minute Christmas shopping. At that time, during the 1950s, the huge malls on the outskirts of town had not yet been built. We would go into department stores such as Leavitt’s, Pariseau’s, and Hill’s, and there was a wonderful hardware store called Moreau’s where mother would find all sorts of high quality dishes, china, and casserole dishes to buy as gifts. Most all of these little shops on Elm Street closed their doors, years ago.
With snow drifting down, on Christmas Eve, we would run into aunts who were picking up a few last minute gifts. We would stop at Woolworth’s Five and Dime store where one could actually buy a few things for a nickel or a dime. We’d go up to the soda fountain located at one end of the store, and have a hot fudge sundae. I can visualize the thick, creamy fudge, like no other, even to this day.
Ultimately, Christmas was about going to church. Often we attended Midnight Mass when I was old enough to stay up that late. My brother, Jack, was always eager for presents, and so, the family instituted a habit of each of us opening one present before leaving for church. The gifts were all very practical ones, as I recall, mainly clothing. Oh yes, I did receive dolls, ice skates, and toys, but the parents of four children wanted all of us to have warm flannel nightgowns, or new sweaters, or new flannel shirts, or new cozy socks, for the long winter. The emphasis was on giving, and the gifts were never measured as to who got more than someone else. Giving was done freely, and each gift was from the heart.
Zoom from the 1950s to today. What a sad day it was today. A temporary worker at Walmart was trampled to death for trying to hold back a mob of 200 would-be, crazed shoppers. A pregnant woman was injured in a similar circumstance. This shocking news is proof certain that the idea of Christmas has really gotten out of control. Is any material item worth killing a fellow human being, someone who will be missed by his loved ones during the holidays?
I can’t help but think of the simplicity of the first Christmas. If you are a Christian, then you believe that in a lone manger, the Prince of Peace came into this world on a starry night, and was laid on straw. Traveling from afar, the Wise Men arrived to pay homage to the Christ Child and to bring Him the gifts of incense, gold, and mryhh. Fast forward to 2008. Instead of giving gold in homage, the idea is for merchants to get as much gold as possible, by holding “sales” at impossible hours, such as 2 a.m., and by carrying only a limited number of advertised models so as to dupe the public into spending even more money by buying something more expensive.
There seems to be something inherently wrong, and just plain crazy about all of this. In trying to put more fun into Christmas with high tech and electronic items, people totally miss the point of celebrating the holiday in a more homespun sense. I really can’t explain the Spirit of Christmas to anyone else, as I perceive it to be. I can only say that something is fundamentally wrong with what is happening in America today. Since I can not change other people or the ways of the world, in general, I guess I will have to go work on my quilt. It’s the only option for maintaining sanity in an insane world. As I started to say, the essence of Christmas is love.
Patricia Cummings
