RECOLLECTIONS

 

RECOLLECTIONS

Long ago when I was a kid, every Christmas meant

a new pair of flannel pjs made by mom in secret.

It’s ironic not being able to remember the toys,

but to receive new fuzzy pajamas – what joy!

Still today the thought brings comfort.

Thank you, mom, for years of warmth.

A recitation of “The Night Before Christmas”

every year from dad made us all groan and fuss.

Dad's yearly "bah humbug" was heard.

Mom would get out the checkerboard.

I remember she always won.

Today the memory is fun.

Mom made fruitcake and gingerbread

along with homemade yeast breads.

I can still smell cinnamon scenting the air

and warm bread baking and wafting through the air.

Though fruitcake has a bad reputation

her fruitcake was requested without question.

I don't recall Christmas' receiving lots of toys

but I do recall giving so others could enjoy

this wonderful season of peace and joy

for those no longer girls and boys

as my parents loaded us in the car and we went to share

with those who lived alone, some elderly folks with white hair.

A quart of soup, a loaf of bread, a plate of gingerbread cookies.

This edible feast given to these folks always seemed to please.

We five would line up in a row

and be commented on head to toe

for each Christmas season would bring

proud parents showing off their offspring.

When I was a kid the Christmas tree wasn't put up Thanksgiving night.

Magically it appeared Christmas morning trimmed with colored lights bright.

I don't recall a mountain of gifts

but I do recall pjs and socks.

You know, I've asked kids today if they received pjs and socks

and I get looked at as if I haven't a clue of what rocks.

Santa's snowy footprints were found on the floor.

When we were older we learned it was flour.

Christmas oranges were a treat back then

and one was placed in each stocking.

Christmas songs were heard played on the radio

as our house didn't have a TV, you know.

Christmas meant a visit to my grandparents.

Over the hill in the packed car we went.

My gram, mom, and aunt prepared a feast.

With bounty from the garden, plates were heaped.

The kitchen table set with pretty glasses and plates.

A table in the living room for the kids did await.

December meant snow piled high.

Pictures show higher than I.

We had a white Christmas every year

with an extra day off school – we cheered!

When we were kids, down the hill on sleds we would squeal,

though today snow doesn’t hold quite the same appeal.

December meant custard cooked on the stove top

soon to be put in the container than topped

with ice and salt

then hand cranked

until it became harder to churn

then it became everyone’s turn

to dig in – for ice cream,

homemade, we all screamed.

There was the Christmas play at church.

We practiced each December weekend in church

doing our best to reinvent the first Christmas

with Mary, Joseph, shepherds, and baby Jesus.

Still today parents sit on the edge of their seats

to recite with their children each word beat by beat.

Christmas meant family together

irregardless of the weather

though snow or wind or ice meant dad had to plow

so others could visit with family somehow.

Over the creeks and through the woods

the roads were plowed so someone could.

As we grew and became old enough to drive

we would participate in the Arctic League Drive

delivering toys to neighborhood children

who otherwise would have little to open.

It was the spirit of giving that was instilled

and hopefully today abides in us still.

So those are a few of my recollections

of Christmas with my parents and siblings.

I’m sure they have a different slant

of how their Christmas memories went.

Until they share their thoughts with me

I’ll make due with my memories.

Mom's Fruitcake

Prepare a month before Christmas.

1 cup sugar

1 cup apple juice or water

2 teaspoons lemon juice

½ cup melted butter or margarine

1 teaspoon vanilla

2 eggs

1 ½ cups flour

1 ½ teaspoons baking powder

½ teaspoon soda

½ teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon cloves

½ teaspoon allspice

½ teaspoon nutmeg

½ teaspoon mace

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1 cup raisins (dark or light)

1 cup dried candied fruit

1 cup nuts

Bake 50 minutes at 325 degrees.

When cool, pour 1 cup apple juice or cider over.

Wrap tightly and freeze until Christmas.

For a holiday presentation, mom would bake in greased soup cans,

then slice into rounds.

(I’ve been told by many they don’t care for fruitcake,

but their minds were changed when they tried this recipe.

Basically a fruited spice cake.)