A Child’s Christmas at Falmouth
From stuffed stockings to turkey and stuffing, it was a magical time for a young boy
A 93-year-old contributor shares his heartwarming memories of celebrating a 1920s-style family Christmas.
Iam now 93 years old, but I still have many fond memories associated with our family Christmases when I was a youngster. After they were married, my father Horace Mcclare and my mother Alice ( neé Lyon) McClare, lived in Hillsvale, a community located about 15 miles from Windsor, N.S. At Christmas, Mother liked to return to her home in Falmouth, about five miles beyond Windsor.
It was the 1920s and Dad drove a Model T Ford with snapon side curtains. Mother told us that once, when they were making their yearly Christmas trip to Falmouth, they stopped in Windsor to do some errands. When they returned to the car, they discovered that someone had stolen all the gifts they were taking with them!
One of Mother’s brothers— Uncle Austin— and his wife, Aunt Ida, lived a short distance up the road from Grandfather Lyon’s place ( my mom’s father). I remember one year, when I was about five, we had Christmas Eve supper with them. After supper, I was anxious to get back to Grandfather’s so I could go to bed and Santa Claus could come.
There was no fireplace at Grandfather’s, so one of my stockings was hung on the wall near the wood-burning stove in the dining room. We slept upstairs. I can still remember coming down Christmas morning, about six a. m., to find Grandmother sitting at the dining room table with her head resting on her arms, fast asleep. The round burner lamp with the white shade was still burning—electric lights had not yet come that way. She woke with a start, “I must have fallen asleep.” She started for her bedroom, which was just off the dining room. I got my stocking and went back upstairs to explore its contents, and wake Mother and Dad.
Stockings were always wellfilled, with a doughnut man and a candy cane on top. There was always at least one toy as well. One of the toys I remember was a sparkler—a wheel with flints that made sparks when rubbed against sandpaper—it was spun by pushing a lever. The other regular features were a barley sugar figure, some ribbon candy and an orange stuffed in the toe.
After the breakfast dishes were cleared away, the family gathered in the living room where the Christmas tree stood in the middle of the floor. It was decorated with red- and- green chenille garlands, glass ornaments and white candles. Before the gifts were distributed, Grandfather led a parade around the tree. Auntie Bee, home from New York, played the piano as we sang a song called Merry, Merry Christmas. Merry, merry Christmas everywhere, cheerily it ringeth in the air. Christmas bells, Christmas trees, Christmas odours on the breeze; Merry, merry Christmas everywhere, cheerily it ringeth in the air.
Christmas dinner was always a feast. Grandfather Lyon sat at the head of the extended dining room table and said the blessing. Down one side of the table to his left sat Auntie Bea, then Uncle Claire and Uncle Cecil, Grandmother and Aunt Ida at the end. Uncle Austin and our family sat on the other side. To this day, I can still remember Grandfather declaring: “The one who eats the most potatoes and turkey gets the biggest piece of pudding!” n