Christmas 1973, part 2
I could never figure out how our mother did it. The sheer amount of food that had to be bought; to be put away; to be brought out and fixed, ready for a small army to consume. That must be it, really - she was the General's cook for the General's army, and as such, worked that daily miracle.
Christmas morning dawned brightly without a cloud in the sky. But we weren't thinking of clouds. We were thinking of cinnamon rolls. Tradition had it that the masses would first attack their Christmas stockings (in reality, our dad's [clean] white socks), followed by the most delicious breakfast known to mankind. There were the rolls, the eggs and bacon, the fresh fruit (Mother always had fresh fruit), the variety of juices and the pot upon pot of fresh coffee. It was Heaven.
The house was simply packed with people, and yet no one felt particularly crowded. At least not in a terribly negative way. It wasn't something one would complain about because no one wanted any one to leave it. We waited all year for this. Thinking of how to describe it to you leaves me sitting here completely chocked up, because of the dearness of it all.
Once the breakfast had been dealt with, young, older, and in between all gathered in the living room around the Tree, and the festivities began. There was never a complete free-for-all when it came to opening gifts. Oh no, never that! Dad picked out a gift, and gave it. The receiver then opened it and everyone could see what he/she got. Then that person gave another person a gift. And we all watched...
It sounds rather like a lengthy process, doesn't it? It was, with at least 21 people in there. But every person wanted to see what the other person received, and that was just the way it was done. Someone got Stuart a scarf, and someone else new gloves. You see, Christmases in New Zealand came with warm, balmy weather and he wasn't accustomed to all this snow.
But there were many other gifts both fun and useful and Stuart couldn't believe it. The house was filled with people and it seemed every one of them had given, or gone in with someone else to give. Sweet! It was funny to see his reaction whenever someone brought a package to him. Surprise, every time!
The rest of the day was a swirl of (to me) dazzling activity.
It would have been impossible to squeeze one more event into that long and memorable Day. The perfect celebration of the birth of our Savior. The deep gratefulness. The acknowledgment of Truth come to Save.
photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/carmenherbs/11377890755/">Carmen Rodriguez NSP</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/">cc</a>
photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gsfc/4386822005/">NASA Goddard Photo and Video</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/">cc</a>
Christmas morning dawned brightly without a cloud in the sky. But we weren't thinking of clouds. We were thinking of cinnamon rolls. Tradition had it that the masses would first attack their Christmas stockings (in reality, our dad's [clean] white socks), followed by the most delicious breakfast known to mankind. There were the rolls, the eggs and bacon, the fresh fruit (Mother always had fresh fruit), the variety of juices and the pot upon pot of fresh coffee. It was Heaven.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/carmenherbs/11377890755/
The house was simply packed with people, and yet no one felt particularly crowded. At least not in a terribly negative way. It wasn't something one would complain about because no one wanted any one to leave it. We waited all year for this. Thinking of how to describe it to you leaves me sitting here completely chocked up, because of the dearness of it all.Once the breakfast had been dealt with, young, older, and in between all gathered in the living room around the Tree, and the festivities began. There was never a complete free-for-all when it came to opening gifts. Oh no, never that! Dad picked out a gift, and gave it. The receiver then opened it and everyone could see what he/she got. Then that person gave another person a gift. And we all watched...
It sounds rather like a lengthy process, doesn't it? It was, with at least 21 people in there. But every person wanted to see what the other person received, and that was just the way it was done. Someone got Stuart a scarf, and someone else new gloves. You see, Christmases in New Zealand came with warm, balmy weather and he wasn't accustomed to all this snow.
But there were many other gifts both fun and useful and Stuart couldn't believe it. The house was filled with people and it seemed every one of them had given, or gone in with someone else to give. Sweet! It was funny to see his reaction whenever someone brought a package to him. Surprise, every time!
The rest of the day was a swirl of (to me) dazzling activity.
- playing board games (both new and old. Where would we be without Monopoly?)
- laying around the fire, reading new books
- singing around the piano
- plunging outside and into the snow
- inevitably, more snowball fights
- helping get the dinner on
- consuming the dinner (we never had it so good)
- packing it all away again
- staying up as late as possible, so as to delay the day's end
- singing that last and sweetest Christmas Carol
- talking, always talking
http://www.flickr.com/photos/gsfc/4386822005/
Magnificent. From both sides of the world.
See you along the Way!
the SconeLady
"...for the Son of Man came to seek and to save that which was lost." - Matthew 18:11
photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/carmenherbs/11377890755/">Carmen Rodriguez NSP</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/">cc</a>
photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gsfc/4386822005/">NASA Goddard Photo and Video</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/">cc</a>
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