Harkening back to a simpler Christmas
There’s no doubt about it. Elderly folk, who’ve been enjoying retired life with social events and many friendly gatherings, have had to adjust to a new regime of handwashing, spraying, wiping, cleaning and a stay-at-home lifestyle.
So what does one do when the knitting gets too boring, the news is tiresome, TV programming seems to revolve around repeats, and one hasn’t used up sufficient energy to warrant a snooze until supper time comes around?
For many it has meant sweeping into the corners of long-forgotten memories, blowing away the dust and settling into the new normal.
So what about those long-forgotten traditions? Yes, the ones when Christmas preparations were planned and started as spring warmed the earth, gardens were planted, piglets were purchased, a hen was isolated in a darkened corner of the hen house with a clutch of eggs tucked into the cozy warmth of her feathers. There would be fresh pork by early fall, a few young cockerels (grown from that early summer hatch of chicks) to prepare, wrap in brown paper, freeze in the ‘summer’ kitchen and bury in the oat grain bin where they could easily be found as Christmas preparation time approached.
Some still remember when there was no hydro power, no refrigerator or freezer nother than ice sawed from the nearest stream during winter, and of course, the oat bin, filled when the thrasher came with his separating machine, and the neighbors arrived with their team, pulling the binder leading the way ahead of double teams and flat-rack wagons to the grain field where stooked grain would be loaded and transported to the separator rumbling in the barnyard with a crew managing the filled bags of grain and the large blow-pipe carrying dry straw up into a corner of the hay-bay.
You say what has that got to do with Christmas? Well, there would be families gathered for the traditional Christmas Day feast meal, pulling up to a groaning table where roast chicken and pork, potatoes, squash, and wild cranberry jelly, gravy flavored with poultry spice and chopped onion harvested from the garden along with squash, turnip, tomatoes, beans, carrots, beets and of course, sweet herbs.
Green tomato mincemeat pie was always a star along with Christmas pudding made with beef suet, molasses, raisins, candied fruit steamed slowly on the kitchen stove. The aromas of ingredients in the preparation stage began in late summer as pumpkins were harvested along with turnips, apples, squash. Then there were yelloweyed beans, another winter staple transformed into baked beans with maple syrup, brown sugar and salt pork roasted in what the old folks called a slow oven from late morning ‘til supper time.
Decorations outside were rare - perhaps a pine bough hung on the door
with a red ribbon bow. But inside there was always a tree, festooned with crepe-paper chains. strings of popcorn, perhaps an ornament or two. But no lights or tinsel. Gifts were sensible - handmade socks or perhaps a scarf, and just maybe a few items from the Eaton Catalogue such as winter longjohns or a warm shirt.
But there was music. No, not on a radio or television, but Christmas carols as everyone gathered round the piano and the old familiar carols were sung. Sometimes, if the weather was tolerable, a horse and sleigh
with buffalo robes and heated stones carefully arranged for the journey to the country church three miles away. Youngsters would snuggle under the furry wraps, finding a comfortable spot among the warm stones and adults, (not more than two) would face the weather for a trip that took close to an hour.
These memories were stories of my Grandma’s time. She spoke nostalgically of her Christmas Day traditions, adding once visitors were gone, there would be very few social events until spring made roads passable and a warming sun made a trip to town more or less comfortable.
But she was quick to add there was no boredom. There would be popcorn to pop and real cocoa made from the original powdered cocoa if there was enough milk. There were always the chores to do, feed the animals, clean
the stables, separate the cream from the milk.
Her stories were fascinating and remembering her obvious pleasure as she recalled her youth on the farm, one wonders what we have lost in a world bombarded with the hype and commercialism of a modern Christmas with shopping online, food delivered to one’s door and no mention of the reason we celebrate this day.
Perhaps time and technology, consumerism have overshadowed the true spirit of Christmas.
Time taken to admire a starfilled night sky, a wave and smile to neighbors, a phone call to far-away relatives.
Grandma would say a smile is one of few things that cost nothing that you can give away and still keep it ready for the next encounter.
And that hasn’t changed.