Christmas Memories from Michigan
So many Christmas memories surface each December, precious gifts from a time long past. Perhaps we share similar memories. I’m sharing some of mine in the hope of sparking your own.
Christmas Trees
Each December we would drive into the country and walk across snow-covered ground to find the perfect Christmas tree for our home. Dad knew local farmers willing to let us cut a tree down on their land for free. The selections were not like on tree farms. I enjoyed the challenge of finding one without too many bare spots. That’s what Christmas ornaments were for—to fill in the bare spots. And if you got a Charlie Brown Christmas tree … all it took was a little love.
Once cut down and taken home, we would wait while Dad trimmed the bottom. Mom always made sure Dad cut one larger than our space so she would have evergreen branches for other decorations, filling our home with the smell of pine. Dad fit the tree into the stand and strung the lights, at my mom’s instruction, laying on the ground and turning the tree till she determined he had it in just the right spot. Then, Dad’s job being down, we could hang the many different ornaments and tinsel and finish off with hot cocoa and cookies.
Mom graciously allowed us to hang the ornaments, under her supervision. She insisted on us hanging the tinsel one strand at a time, a tedious chore which tempted us to just throw all the tinsel on in a glob or create a spiderweb of tinsel. (I don’t hang tinsel on my trees now.)
While we were in school, Mom would rearrange the ornaments and tinsel and lights to suit her idea of the perfectly decorated tree. This was a step up from my mom’s childhood where she and her ten siblings had to sit and watch their mom and dad decorate the tree lest the children break any of the ornaments. When Grandma and Grandpa were done, the kids were allowed to hang the tinsel, one strand at a time.
Christmas Creche
Under the tree, Mom placed the ever-expanding Christmas manger scene. Each year she looked for more figures to add to the menagerie in and around the stable as well as visitors from far and wide until it outgrew the tree and took up residence on top of Mom’s sewing machine cabinet. (No sewing allowed during Christmas!)
Christmas Music
Oh, the holiday music! I sat for hours listening over and over again to the Christmas records Dad got for free from local gas stations. A new one every year – we had every one of them. I learned the words to all of the songs sung by well-known stars: Julie Andrews, Dean Martin, Andy Williams, Bing Crosby and more.
Christmas Cookies
Each year our large table would be covered with Christmas cookies to frost and decorate. At first Mom made molasses cookies. These weren’t my favorites. They needed lots of frosting. Then Mom decided to try Grandma’s (her mom’s) sugar cookie recipe. Try though she might, they were never the same as Grandma’s. Grandma had a secret touch. Hers where big and soft and frosted with love. Even the ones without frosting, round with a walnut in the middle, melted in your mouth, a sugary delight. Every December Grandma spent hours baking Christmas cookies for her family Christmas party which was held in a church hall. Where else would you fit eleven grown kids, all married with children?
It took Mom years to get a facsimile of Grandma’s cookies. She would finish a batch then, along with my sisters, Mom and I would take a bite, allow the flavor to fill our mouths and agree. Good, but not as good as Grandma’s. “Needs more nutmeg,” Mom would say. Or more flour or more sugar.
Still, they were an improvement over the molasses cookies. Once my sisters and I started baking we would make an assortment of cookies and treats – church windows (multi-colored mini-marshmallows wrapped in melted chocolate) fudge, peanut brittle, but never molasses cookies.
And what do I wish for now – big, fluffy molasses cookies! And of course, my grandma’s sugar cookies.
Christmas Shopping
What’s Christmas without shopping for a special gift for a special someone. Grasping the two-dollar allotment Dad gave us to buy something for the sibling who’s name we drew, we would search the local five and dime for the perfect gift. (You could actually get something for $2.00 back then!)
Christmas Eve
Santa came to our house early on Christmas Eve. There was no waking at the crack of dawn to see what Santa had left us. We already knew. Each Christmas Eve we would pile into our station wagon and see the Christmas lights, giving Santa time to deliver our presents. Funny how Mom always had a reason to go back inside for something she had forgotten while we waited with Dad in the car.
We enjoyed the lights but what we were really looking for was a glimpse of Santa, flying through the sky, on a roof or sneaking in a back door. One Christmas we saw Santa. Dad pulled over the car as the jolly old elf was making his way to a home, his bag over his shoulder. He saw us and came over to chat.
What could you say to someone you had caught on his way to deliver presents? Would this brief break with Christmas protocol doom us to no toys this year? Would it put us permanently on the Christmas naughty list? We sat speechless. Only my brother Tom had the nerve to talk to Santa. Santa told us he would be heading to our home next then reached into his sack and give us three candy canes, two short of the needed five.
“I left my other candy canes back on my sleigh,” he apologized. “I’ll make sure I have more when I get to your home,” he assured us. We watched with wide eyes.as Santa headed back up the sidewalk to the house.
After we had driven sufficiently long enough for Santa to have come and gone, we went home and raced up the steps to the back door. Once inside we stopped and peeked to make sure we didn’t startle Santa and scare him off before he had time to leave all the presents.
Under the tree was a magical site—five piles of toys glistening from the colored lights. We hunted for the pile of toys that was ours. Since Santa came early, he didn’t have time to wrap our presents. This meant we each had a pile of toys and candy waiting for us. No need to bother with unwrapping them, we jumped right in. (Mom, ever the bargain hunter, scoured the stores all December and knew just what she wanted to buy. Then on Christmas Eve she swooped in. Dad pushed the cart while Mom piled it high with presents at half-price. No chance of Christmas being ruined by us kids discovering hidden toys.)
After going through our stash, we passed out the wrapped family presents, while feasting on cookies and candy. Then we would struggle through a few Christmas carols until Mom gave up on us.
Christmas Services
All through Advent we would gather with other classes in the hallway at St. Mary School around the lit Advent wreath. The plaintive notes of “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel” echoed through the hall then we were dismissed to our classrooms. On Christmas morning, we were pulled away from our toys for Christmas Mass where we visited baby Jesus, newly arrived in the manger. Then when we were older, we stayed up for Midnight Mass, sitting in a darkened church and singing carols.
Christmas Memories
And then – back to life as usual. Christmas holidays were over and we faced three months of cold, ice and snow that made up Michigan winters in my hometown of Alma. But, oh, the memories. Plenty to hold onto till the next Christmas.
As Mary did at the first Christmas, I treasure these Christmas memories. “Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” Luke 2:19
Wishing all a Merry Christmas filled with memories!
What are some of your Christmas memories? I’d love to hear them.
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