The time for traditions--Tricia McGill

 

Find all my books here on my BWL author page.

Well, most of the celebrations are probably over with by today so all that is left is the tidying up. I sincerely hope everyone had the best time possible. In these strange times, it is difficult to know what is normal any more. No matter where you are in the world all we could hope for right now is that you were able to connect with your loved ones.

Most restrictions have been dropped in my part of the world—at least for the foreseeable future. However, who knows what is around the next corner. Personally, I am not one for making New Year resolutions as many people do. I tend to face life one day at a time nowadays, which seems to be the best solution in a world that is changing day by day.

The thing I like best about this time of the year is traditions that have stood the test of time. I am not sure if mistletoe is necessary amid the decorations any more—such as a tree with either a star or a fairy on its top, Santa visiting on Christmas Eve to bring goodies to those children who have been good, but it was a well-worn tradition in my household when I was young.

Depending on where you start to look for information on the tradition of kissing beneath this parasitic plant that grows on trees and is poisonous, it seems to have been started by the Druids. Long considered to be a symbol of vitality with uncertain special curing properties, the earliest mention of its romantic powers was from Pliny the Elder, a Roman natural historian. He scoffed at the Druids notion that mistletoe when taken in a drink would aid in fertility.

Later the romantic association was expanded upon by the Norse in the story about Baldur’s mother Frigga, goddess of love. Legend had it that she ordered the plants and animals to promise not to harm her son—all plants except mistletoe. So, good old Loki, god of mischief, then killed Baldur with a mistletoe spear. Frigga’s tears turned into mistletoe berries that brought Baldur back to life, thus making Frigga declare mistletoe as a symbol of love.

Phew and here was I thinking it was a British Christmas tradition whereby if lovers kissed beneath the hanging sprig it ensured everlasting love. But it seems they didn’t start hanging mistletoe until the 18^th/19^th century. Mistletoe was also mentioned in Charles Dickens’ Pickwick Papers where he had young women screaming and struggling until they finally found it useless to resist the lure of being kissed beneath the mistletoe. Woe and betide any girl who resisted being kissed beneath it, for they would meet nothing but bad luck.

Mistletoe is still believed to contain healing properties by some, but there is little evidence to prove its worth as a herbal remedy. Sadly, the American Cancer institute has proven that there is nothing to suggest it contains an extract that will help the body’s immune system to fight cancer.

So there you have it—if you paused to kiss a lover or even a friend beneath the sprig of mistletoe this holiday season, you are almost certainly about to have the best of luck this coming year—or perhaps not. In any case, I wish you all that you wish yourselves in 2022.

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Advent calendars by J. S. Marlo

J. S. Marlo BWL Author Page

I would be lying if I said I wasn't counting the days before Christmas, mainly because I take care of my five-year-old granddaughter every morning, and the first thing we do while we're eating breakfast together is to check the date and month on the calendar. Now that we're in December, we also count the days before Christmas Eve and then she opens her two Advent calendars.

I debated which Advent calendar to buy her before I settled on the chocolate and the Lego calendars. There are so many different ones on the market, but like many Christmas traditions, where or when did this one start?

Advent calendars originated in the 1800s in the German-speaking world when parents began to think up different ways to illustrate the remaining time until Advent for their children in order to highlight the special, holiday atmosphere of the season.


Some parents added a new picture with Christmas themes to their wall or windows each day leading up to Christmas Eve or Day. Other made 24 lines with chalk on cabinet doors or door frames, then allowed the children to wipe away one stroke each day.

In Austria, they made “heaven ladders” on which one progressed down the ladder rung by rung each day, illustrating the concept of God coming down to Earth. And in Scandinavia, a candle was divided into 24 segments and a segment was burned every day until Christmas.

In the late 1800s, they started making “Christmas clocks”. The face of the clock was divided into 24 segments (some adorned with song texts or Bible verses) and the hands moved one step further each day.

Then in 1908, inspired by his childhood memories,  Gerhard Lang (1881-1974) commercialized the first print Advent calendar. As a child he'd received 24 cookies sewn onto the lid of a box by his mother and he was allowed to eat one of them every day during the Advent period.

Lang's calendar didn’t have any little doors  to open...yet. It was composed of two printed parts: one page contained 24 pictures to cut out, and a cardboard page on which there were 24 boxes, each with a poem composed by Lang. The children could cut out one picture each day, read a verse and glue the picture on it. On December 24th the Christ child, dressed in white, was glued in place.

In 1920, the first Advent calendar with little doors or windows to open appeared, and around 1926, Lang created the "Christmas Rose", the first Advent calendar with 20 pieces of chocolate from the Stollwerck company.

Over the decades, the calendars evolved in shapes and content, from chocolate, to cheese, to toys, to wine tree, and everything in between, but one thing hasn't changed. It still counts the days until Christmas, building up the excitement in both children and adults.

Only 17 days until Christmas...

Wishing everyone a joyous holiday season!

JS

 J. S. Marlo's Website

Christmas on a cruise ship and other places...by Sheila Claydon

Of all the books I have written, only Cabin Fever features Christmas, and even that is without the snow and cold we usually experience in the UK. If you, like me, prefer the sunshine, however, it makes a very different read for the holiday season. In it, the cruise ship Osprey makes it way down the coast of New Zealand to Sydney in Australia. With illness, secrets, jealousy, misunderstandings and an unexpected desire trying hard to get in the way, the entertainment crew still manage to pull together a spectacular Christmas show for their passengers, as well as finding a way to mend two broken hearts.

A few years ago I made the selfsame journey, arriving in Sydney Harbour on Christmas Eve. Although it was wonderful and was the reason I eventually wrote Cabin Fever, there was nobody on board as mesmerising as Ellie, the heroine, or as outrageously handsome as Drew, the hero. Reliving the memories got me thinking about my own Christmases, however, and I realised how very varied they have been over the years.

Instead of the traditional English meal of turkey, Christmas pudding and mince pies I've enjoyed huge and juicy BBQ prawns on the beach in Australia, roast goose and red cabbage in Denmark, tandoori chicken with rice and chapattis in India, and Chinese wontons with noodles so hot and spicy they made my lips numb!

I didn't set out to experience Christmas in different places around the world but with a son who lives and works abroad it sometimes just happens that way, and each foreign Christmas has always been intriguing, delicious and enjoyable.

I've learned that hygge really is a thing in Denmark where Christmas is celebrated beside a blazing fire while candles flicker from every available surface.  Hot fruit tea and chocolates really are best enjoyed snuggled up in a furry rug. Schnapps, which makes an appearance at random intervals throughout the day has to be downed in one swallow accompanied by a loud shout of Skaal (cheers), and the specially brewed Danish Christmas beer really is much stronger than anyone realises until it's too late!

In Australia it is far more laid back with daily BBQs and a lot of sun, sand and beer. The excitement grows as New Year approaches though until what seems like the whole population converges to watch the always magnificent firework display at Sydney Harbour.

In India we were taken to the Golden Temple at Amritsar where Sikhs go in their thousands to celebrate the New Year. As one of only a handful of westerners there, it was a mesmerising experience. Also, that same Christmas, for some now unremembered reason, I ended up riding a camel as well as being marooned in the middle of an enormous boating lake while vultures flew overhead the cloudless sky. If that sounds a bit scary it wasn't, it was stomach clutchingly funny. It is, however, a story for another day.

Of course I love the traditional English Christmas too and that is mostly what I experience. It was best when my children were small, that is until grandchildren arrived and reworked the Christmas magic for all the adults in the house.  Last year it was a traditional family Christmas at home with the whole family, something that is not always possible, and with a 3 year old in the house in the lead up to the celebrations we had to find a different hiding place for the Christmas Elf every day and then remember that there was still a chocolate to be eaten in the Advent calendar!

This Christmas, however, we're back on our travels and off to Hong Kong. We have no idea what to expect except that the people we know who have experienced it say it's one of the best places to be at Christmas.  Let's hope they are right because I've just received this picture as a precursor and I think the elves look a bit scary!!

For Cabin Fever and the rest of Sheila's books go to:

http://bwlpublishing.ca/authors/claydon-sheila-romance/

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Under the Christmas Tree by J. S. Marlo

J. S. Marlo BWL Author Page

December is my favorite month of the year. I love the decorations, the lights, and mostly the atmosphere. It seems people are friendlier, more helpful. Despite the larger crowds, I enjoy shopping for that perfect gift that will light up someone's eyes.

When my kids were little, I followed my own rule of thumb when it came to Christmas gifts: a pajama, a puzzle, a toy, a stuffy, and a book. They were allowed to open one gift on Christmas Eve: the pajama, which they wore that night. Then on Christmas Day, they either started the book or the puzzle. They are grown up now, but that same rule of thumb now applies to my granddaughter. It wasn't something I'd read somewhere or that was passed down from generations, but then a few weeks back I saw that  post on Facebook.

My curiosity was piqued, so I browsed the Internet to see if I could find out more about this delightful Christmas tradition.

"Jólabókaflóð" or "Yule Book Flood" originated during World War II when foreign imports were restricted, but paper was cheap. Iceland’s population was not large enough to support a year-round publishing industry, so book publishers flooded the market with new titles in the final weeks of the year.

Icelanders open their presents on Christmas Eve, so most of them end the evening by settling down with one of their gifted books. According to Icelandic author Yrsa Sigurðardótti, books remain the number one Christmas present in Iceland and it’s considered a total flop Christmas if you do not get a book.

Fun & interesting facts:

- Iceland publishes more books per capita than any other country

- One in ten Icelanders will publish a book in their lifetime

- In Iceland, the holiday season officially kicks off with the delivery of the Bokatidindi—a catalogue of every new book published in Iceland

 - In 2011, Reykjavík (Iceland's capital) was designated a UNESCO City of Literature

While giving books is not unique to Iceland, the tradition of exchanging books on Christmas Eve and then spending the evening reading is becoming a cultural phenomenon... a relaxing and charming tradition, even more so when it's cold and snowing outside.

So this Christmas Eve, I'm contemplating getting a new book, a box of chocolate, a cup of hot cocoa, and spending the night reading by the fireplace.

Happy Holidays from Canada!

JS

http://www.readitforward.com/essay/article/jolabokaflod-meet-favorite-new-holiday-tradition/ 

https://www.readitforward.com/essay/article/what-jolabokaflod-means-to-me/

 J. S. Marlo's Website

SURPRISING ORIGINS OF HOLIDAY TRADITIONS by Vijaya Schartz

As I researched my medieval series, The Curse of the Lost Isle, I was reminded of old holiday traditions, and discovered a few had surprising origins.

Whether we celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza, the Saturnalia, the new year, or any other holiday tradition, we usually believe the origins are specific to a religion or simply marking the passage of time. Not so. Our traditions are an amalgam of many Druid, Pagan, Norse, Celtic, Greek, Roman and other old traditions, passed on and adapted to the changing beliefs of the time.

Historically, fifteen thousand years ago, well before Christianity, our ancestors celebrated the winter solstice shortly after December 21st. Not just in Europe, but all over the northern hemisphere. When they noticed the darkness receding as the days grew longer, they celebrated their hope for the return of long, sunny days. That was enough to rejoice, although many superstitions and traditions were added to the celebrations. Archeological digs near Stonehenge revealed a multitude of animal bones believed to be the remnants of sacrifices to the gods, and extensive feasting involving gatherings of thousands of people for the winter solstice.

The rise of Christianity proved laborious, often imposed at the point of a sword. Many older cultures already entrenched in their own customs, refused to abandon their cherished traditions in the name of the new religion. Unable to prevent the newly converted Christians from celebrating their old Pagan holidays, the Church leaders in the fourth century instituted a new holiday to celebrate the birth of Jesus (the existence of whom many Christians tended to refute) on December 25th, so it would stand at the heart of the formerly Pagan celebrations. Thus, the old traditions remained, in the name of a different god.

Scholars have long ago determined that according to the seasonal details in the scriptures, Christ would have been born during the spring, when the flocks of sheep pastured in the hills. Besides, according to the astrologers of the time, Jesus brought forth the age of the Pisces (the fish is still a strong Christian symbol), and according to the Zodiac, would have been a Pisces himself, consequently born in March.

Other customs, like decorating houses with lights and hitting the shopping malls, are quite recent. Queen Victoria started the trend of gift giving at Christmas, and in the Twentieth Century it gave birth to an entire industry. She also promoted the Christmas tree.

As for the Christmas tree, Norse and other Pagan cultures used to cut boughs of evergreen in winter and move them into the home or temple, then decorated them. Modern-day Pagans still do. An English monk who'd traveled to Germany, brought the tradition to England in the Seventeenth Century. When I was a child in France, the local priest forbade his parishioners to have a decorated tree, as it was considered a heathen tradition. Only a Nativity scene graced our home at Christmas time.

In my father's family in Western France, Santa Claus or Pere Noel (Father Christmas) was also forbidden to good Catholics well into the 1960s. The myth of Father Christmas dashing through the sky in his sleigh derives from old Pagan spirits flying through the sky at mid winter. My cousins were told that Jesus himself came through the chimney at night to bring presents to well behaved children. Even the good St. Nicholas (who eventually became Santa Claus) was shunned by the Church for centuries for its Pagan overtones. The early Puritans of the East coast also banned the Christmas celebrations for centuries because of their Pagan roots... and the heavy drinking and excesses usually accompanying the festivities.

Kissing under the lucky sprig of mistletoe is a Greek Saturnalia tradition. Mistletoe was sacred to the Greeks and the Celts as well as the Druids. It also had magical powers, and was the center of many fertility rituals. But it didn't correspond with the New Year at the time.

The New year started on March 25, until Pope Gregory XIII instituted the new calendar in 1582. If you look closely at our modern calendar, the names of the months are all wrong. While the first months wear the names of Roman gods and emperors, September (according to the Latin roots) means the seventh month, October the eighth month, November the ninth month, and December the tenth month. This is because as Pope Gregory changed the date of the new year and promoted January to the first month of the year, the names of the calendar months remained the same.

This said, I believe the holidays should be a time of rejoicing, celebrating all the traditions of Earth's many rich cultures. After all, with the explosion of cyber-media, we will soon be one people embracing all traditions, coming together with love and forgiveness at year's end, each making resolutions of becoming a better person for the benefit of all. I wish you the best of holidays this year, and lots of happiness in the New Year.

Vijaya Schartz
Blasters, Swords, Romance with a Kick
http://www.vijayaschartz.com

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Our Christmas Traditions by Roseanne Dowell

Dedicated to my loved ones who are no longer here to celebrate with us, but I'll always have the memories, Mom, Dad, Mickey, and Mary. We miss you.  This article was first published in Good Old Days Magazine in December 2004.


I love Christmas.  Always have. It's my favorite holiday and it begins with Thanksgiving.  I'm sure it comes from being raised in a family of Christmas lovers. My mother started baking for the Christmas season the day after Thanksgiving. I

swear she made every type of Christmas cookie available. 

Back then, during the holidays friends and relatives visited often and she always served a plate of cookies or other type of bakery. Every day we came home from school to delicious aroma of something baking. Poppy seed or nut rolls, kuchens of every kind. Mom was quite a baker. On Fridays, we helped make Christmas cookies.

I remember several big 3# potato chip cans full of cookies. When she went out for the evening, she usually called to see if we were behaving. Our reward - three cookies. Of course, we took three from each can. Even with six of us (I had three brothers and two sisters) we didn't make a dent, but I'm pretty sure she knew what we did.

Our Christmas tree went up December 6th, the feast of St. Nicholas. We put our stockings up the night before and in the morning we were rewarded with oranges, apples, and nuts. Sometimes a hair ribbon or clips, maybe a harmonica or other small toy. 

My mother went all out for Christmas with an elaborate village set up under our tree, complete with hills, caves, and houses - all lit and surrounding the nativity set. It took a whole day for her to set it up. I'll never forget watching her  crawl on the floor under the tree. After laying a bed of cotton, she carefully arranged the caves in the back corner, built hills and valleys and placed the houses. She even created streams and ponds with tinfoil and mirrors. Everything led to the nativity set. A cardboard stable held animals along with Mary, Joseph and Jesus. Every year one of us got the privilege of placing baby Jesus in the manger. Once they were in place, she set up the shepherds, wise men, and angels. 

For many years, she place a wooden fence around the whole scene. There was a light bulb in each fence post.  For some reason, she quit setting that up. I wish I had that fence. My older sister had it, but my younger sister got it after Mary passed away. 
I followed that tradition for years and even made a ceramic village. I've since given the village to my youngest daughter and just the nativity set goes under my tree now. 

I'll never forget how the neighbors complained that we put the tree up so early because, of course, their kids wanted their tree up also. Not that it made a difference, with all the work involved, my mom wanted to enjoy it for as long as possible.  One year, when my oldest brother was in the Air Force, he couldn't make it home for Christmas, but promised he'd join us in January. Our tree started to lose it's needles and reluctantly my mom took it down. My father surprised us one day shortly after with another tree in much better condition. We put it up and kept it watered well into February. My brother's leave kept getting changed. Sometime toward the end of February, it was hopeless and we had to take that tree down also. Good thing, because my brother didn't make it home until the end of March.

On Christmas Eve, we had a traditional supper. My aunt, uncle, and four cousins joined us and after dinner, we went to visit my grandparents.

Our dinner consisted of Oplatky with honey (holy bread wafers like you receive at communion) mushroom soup, balbaki - little bread balls covered in either poppy seed and honey or sauerkraut. At some point, we added periogis to the menu. 

Every year my mom told the story of  how my uncle put honey on his oplatky and hid it on his chair (so his sibling couldn't take it) while they stood to say grace.  They sat down and he looked around and yelled that someone stole his oplatky. Of course no one had. He suddenly remembered an stood. Yep, there it was stuck to his pants. To follow tradition, I tell the same story every year.

 One of my favorite memories is the year my uncle dressed as Santa Claus. He insisted on wearing the suit to my grandparents. My  older sister and I often rode with them, while some of my male cousins rode with my parents.  On the way, we stopped at a traffic light, a man came out of the bar on the corner. My uncle waved and yelled Merry Christmas. The man stopped, looked in the car, scratched his head, turned and went back into the bar. Guess he thought he needed a few more drinks. The look on his face made us all giggle. Not that it took much back then to make us giggle. Mary, my cousin, and I giggled at just about everything.

I have so many wonderful memories of Christmas. I often sit and reflect on them as Christmas Eve approaches. Time seems to have gone by so quickly. It seems only yesterday my husband and I stared our own family. I carry on many of the traditions passed on from my childhood. In the beginning we put our tree up just like my parent's did. I've since purchased an artificial tree and put it up before Thanksgiving because Christmas is always at one of my children's houses.  Neighbors used to laugh at me for putting it up so early, but I didn't mind. I love the lights and festive atmosphere. As we drive around now, I notice more and more trees up early. It warms my heart. 
Now I make the Christmas Eve dinner  the Saturday before Christmas since everyone can't be here Christmas Eve. My brothers, sister and I still get together Christmas Eve. Some of our children join us, but most visit their in-laws .  I hope I can carry this tradition on for many more years. As I look back on the many blessings I've received through the years, I can't help but feel thankful. 
It's funny, but thinking back through the years, I don't remember the gifts I received, but I remember the fellowship with my uncle, aunt, and cousins and years later with my siblings. My mom had a wonderful sense of humor and she passed it down to us kids. As we married and had children of our own (we blessed my parents with 23 grandchildren), we quit buying gifts for each other. It was just too much. I don't recall how it got started, but usually about a week before Christmas, my sisters, brothers in law, my husband, and I got together and started exchanging joke gifts. My mother joined in after a year or so and my brothers got wind of it and insisted on being included. We moved the gift exchange to Christmas Eve - that was our Christmas with our parents - Those are the gifts I remember. We decorated one of my mother's old white hats (we must have sneaked it out of her house) with flags and miniature Christmas balls. 
Mary was entered into the cash explosion lottery and hoped to have her name drawn - she didn't. Someone got her an outfit to wear for the event if her

name was picked. A pair of wading boots, a yellow raincoat, and hat. I wish I had that picture of her. There were some interesting outfits over the years and we continue the practice to this day. I made a suit for one of my brothers this year. He mentioned he didn't own a suit. A dangerous thing to confess to us, so we remedied the situation. I didn't take a picture of the pants, but I glued ruffles on them like the fancy rubber pants we used to get our children.  
My one brother is a great garbage picker. He found a plaster elephant on his walk with my sister in law one year. Of course he had to have it. That elephant's gotten around the family and I ended up with him last year. My sister glued those little fuzzy balls and feathers on him. I decided to bring him back to normal and pulled all those fancy balls off - not an easy chore mind you. I repainted him and dry brushed him. If I say so myself he looks pretty good and now has a prominent place in my living room. 

Wishing everyone a blessed and Merry Christmas.                                                                                                                                                               

Find all of  Roseanne's books at Amazon

A Colonial Christmas, Feast and Customs, by Diane Scott Lewis

For years I lived near the historic town of Fredericksburg, Virginia, named after the then Prince of Wales, Frederick Louis, father of George III. Poor Fred never did become king.

Fredericksburg was an important tobacco-shipping town on the Rappahannock River. I decided to write a Christmas story set during the dawn of the American Revolution, when Virginia, at the time of my story, was still part of England. Researching in the Virginiana Room at the local library, I came across many interesting Christmas customs from this time period—but I found that many originated from earlier eras before Christianity.

In the eighteenth century, the cooking would have been performed in a broad, deep hearth, with a wide chimney where meat could be smoked. Ham, an expensive cut of meat, was popular for a holiday feast.

On December 12th, the Yule Log would be put into the dining room fireplace. This log was kept burning until January sixth, with enough left over to kindle the following year’s Yule Log. The custom of burning the Yule Log dates back before medieval times and was originally a Nordic tradition left over from the pagan days of celebrating the Winter Solstice.

Mince pies were prepared, basically as they are today. But also a specialty called a "stack" cake would be served.

Sweetened, spiced dough was rolled into thin layers, and slices cut using a dinner plate to form a perfect circle. After baking, the cake rose but little. The colonials cooked dried apples and peaches separately, then spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg the fruit was mashed and spread like paste between the cake layers. The cake would be allowed to sit a few days to soak up the fruit.

Another cake would be prepared with a bean baked into one slice. The person who got that particular slice became the King of Misrule. He would rule from Christmas day to Twelfth Night, performing various trifling acts to ensure good weather for the next year. He’d also preside over celebrations, and sometimes cause mischief. This custom can be traced back to ancient Rome, when the King (or Lord) of Misrule was appointed for the feast of Saturnalia, and he represented the good god Saturn. During this time the ordinary rules of life were reversed as masters served their slaves.

Back to the eighteenth century, for holiday decoration, a Christmas Bush would be fashioned using two wooden rings. Binding the rings side by side, fresh cuttings of evergreen, boxwood and sweet William were added. Bright red apples, some rare lemons and pine cones were included for color.

On Christmas day, after dark, the bush was hung in the window with a candle at its center.

For a table centerpiece, a wooden cone adorned with headless nails was speared with apples. Boxwood was stuffed around the apples, and a pineapple put on the top.

On Christmas morning, the people attended church service. Returning to their residence, the home’s owner would enter the house with two sprigs of holly, thus ensuring he would remain master of his house for the coming year.

Then the meal would be laid out for family and friends who might drop by. A punchbowl filled with tea, sugar, pineapple juice and rum was placed next to the centerpiece. As well as the punch, another popular drink was "bumbo" made with rum and sweetened water.

Dried figs and nuts were available to snack on. The ham, smoking for hours, was brought out surrounded by sweet yams. Two roasted fowl would be added to the meat choices. The bread was usually cornbread, served with a hunk of butter.

Muskets and pistols would be fired outside to augment the Christmas festivity.

Celebrations and church attendance on specific days would last until Twelfth Night. This tradition marks the feast of Epiphany, when the three wise men brought gifts to the baby Jesus.

Sources: Wikipedia and the Virginiana Room at the Rappahannock Regional Library, Fredericksburg, Virginia.
And the Williamsburg Marketplace

For more information on my eighteenth-century novels, visit my website:

http://www.dianescottlewis.org

Christmas Traditions Warm the Heart by Betty Jo Schuler

     Christmas Eve, late at night, my husband Paul and I pour a glass of

wine, sit on the floor by our fragrant long-needled pine, the room lit

only by the tree's soft lights, and exchange gift-wrapped boxes

containing ornaments we bought one another.  This tradition began

twenty-five years ago, the year we met, when he gave me a breathtaking

bauble—a clear glass pear-shaped ornament containing a partridge and a

pear tree.  Every Christmas Eve since, we've exchanged ornaments in a

special moment of quiet, peace, and love.  A Candlelight Service at our

church, early in the evening, followed by family gift-giving at my

mother's, sets the tone for this special night.

     Our Christmas tree, cut from the forest days earlier, is decked

with love and memories, and on this particular night, we reminisce.

There's a tiny red-and-white striped stocking, yellowed over the years,

that I bought the year my first son was born.  (Paul wasn't a part of my

life then; we married when my youngest son was in high school, but they

are like his own and he's a beloved stepfather.)  A "God's Eye" made of

Popsicle sticks woven with yarn nestles in the branches, a gift made by

our first grandson, his initials on the back, written in crayon.

Picture-frame ornaments with photos of other grandchildren, when they

were small, evoke tender memories.  A smiling ice cream cone, a gift

from my daughter and her husband, marks the sale of my first published

children's book, Ice Cream for Breakfast.  A china bell with shamrocks,

brought from Ireland, and a gold cross from Rome, are mementos from my

youngest son and his wife's travels.  Paul's and my trips are noted too,

and there are decorations given to us by his brother and sister, and

mine, and my favorite cousin.  Beaded candy canes and wreaths were made

by an aunt that's deceased.     And the lights that bubble around the

bottom of our Christmas tree were purchased only a few years ago, but

reminders of Paul's childhood, they still intrigue little ones. The

quilted tree skirt, hidden by piles of gifts before our family opening,

bears a large green S on a background of red and white—a treasured gift

made by our daughter-in-law.  Our middle son and his wife gave us

appropriate ornaments for our interests, a golf club for my husband and

a book for me.

     The day we take our ornaments, some shimmering, some dulled by the

years, from their boxes, is a special one at our house.  Most of the

boxes are labeled with the date, and a description, but others are

labeled in our minds.  And each year on the night before Christmas, we

reminisce.   

Merriest Christmas Ever by Betty Jo Schuler  

 http://bookswelove.net/bettyjoschuler.php