Traditions
December 26, 2008
As I sit to write this it is the day after Christmas, which is traditionally "Boxing Day" in many places. I have really never understood the meaning behind the whole day. I have heard several explanations and I have a general idea what it is about. I think that to fully understand, it would be desirable to be English or to be associated a bit closer to the English traditions, or in other words to have been a child around people that celebrated the day. Growing up as an Eastern Kansas farm boy I was more apt to think of Boxing Day as a time when two pugilists met in a boxing ring. We are here in Mission, Texas where there are a lot of traditions that are also different from those of eastern Kansas or around Denver, Colorado. One of the things that interests me is the abundance of fireworks stands. There is a tradition of using a lot more pyrotechnics here than any where I have ever been. Back in Kansas a lot of people bought extra items near Independence Day and saved some till the New Year and shot them off then, but you could not purchase them anywhere. Well nowhere except on the black market and that was only if some person wanted to go the the effort of selling out of the trunk of their car. On Christmas Eve I was reading several articles in a local paper about the memories of some people and their childhood traditions. Because I enjoyed them so much I thought that I might share one of my own memories from sixty years ago. This was written a few years ago about the time from 1945-1955 (+/-).
CHRISTMAS
special times
A lot of families have traditions that are based upon something to do with their ethnic background. While we may have had such traditions I was never aware that that was the case, unless you wish to call having a decorated tree an ethnic tradition. When I was little Dad smoked a corncob pipe. He would carry the makings and his pipe with him wherever he went. It was from this that one of the most memorable traditions came into existence.
Every Christmas Eve we would get into the car and drive into Princeton to go to services at the First Methodist Church. The church would have a program of singing and pageants that were put on by the different Sunday School classes. Almost without fail some class would have a reenactment of the Nativity. There were several times I remember that I put on someone’s cast off brown bathrobe and played the part of a shepherd or one of the wise men visiting baby Jesus in the manger. Usually there was a soloist or a group singing traditional songs during the pageant. My sister Lauralea sang with groups at these sometimes. When I was in high school, and of course too big to be a shepherd or any thing like that I sang a solo a couple of times.
There was a big tree that was always set up and decorated at the front of the church and under it there was always sacks of candy, nuts and fruit for every kid in the church. There was something special about those sacks of goodies. I can’t ever remember a Christmas that those sacks did not contain one of the largest, sweetest, best-looking oranges that money could buy. I am sure that the oranges in the bag were a premium product that was not found in every grocery store in Ottawa. Oranges were somewhat more expensive than apples so there were purchased less often. But even at that I am sure that the folks bought oranges that were equal in quality except for perhaps the size. I was never limited to the amount of fruit I could eat, so I could have had more oranges than was in the sack any time at home if I wanted. And yet I always looked forward to receiving the traditional sack of goodies at church.
That bag had ribbon candy, hard candy with trees or snowmen or some other Christmas object down the middle, and a different colored candy, usually blue, red or green, on the outside. There was usually a candy that was called a circus peanut, and a kind of candy that had a hard outside and a soft inside. It seemed that there was a great variety. Of course what kind of Christmas goody bag was complete without several kinds of nuts. There were common peanuts in the shells. There were little round hazelnuts, and almonds with that funny looking shell that looked like a peach pit. The very hardest nut to crack was the Brazil nut. Most people called them nigger toes. I didn’t know the proper name for them until I was probably ten or twelve years old. The shell was very tough. If you hit it hard enough with a hammer to break the shell, you would probably crush the meat. Even if you were careful and didn’t crush it, the meat would cling to the shell so tight that it took a nut pick to extract the meat. But it was a good nut and worth the effort that it took to get at the insides. There would also be a few pecans in the bag. Some years the shells were a very dark red color and some years the shells were a tan color. I never knew the significance the different color indicated but either one of the colors had a very tasty nut inside. I liked them a lot.
There were other items in the bag some years, like some small inexpensive toy wrapped in paper. Perhaps like a puzzle with a little ball bearing that had to be maneuvered to a particular hole, without falling into a trap. Not infrequently there would be a large red delicious apple included in the bag. I always anticipated receiving the goody bag a lot. The anticipation of its receipt was greater than the value it contained. It’s wasn’t that there was no candy, nuts or fruit at home, the real value was where it came from and the fact that it was a party occasion. It was just part of the Christmas holiday and that made it fun. I suppose the fact that it was all mine to eat or to share as I wished made it more desirable.
As I said Dad smoked a pipe when I was young. He always had his pipe, a bag of Country Gentleman tobacco, and several wooden kitchen matches in his pockets. I don’t ever remember him forgetting to take them with him when he left the house. That is except on Christmas Eve. That night it seemed that he became very forgetful. We had to hurry around, get ready to go to church and get out the door so we would not be late for services at church. Dad would have warmed up the car so we did not get too cold going to Princeton. We’d get in the car and start down the lane. Sometimes we would get as far as a couple of car lengths past the big elm tree when Dad would remember that he had left his fixings in the house. In spite of the fact that he had been told to not forget them this year he would anyway. So he would have to go back into the house and get them. There were a few times that it took him a very long time to find the things he needed. I was never allowed to go back to the house and get them in spite of the fact that I knew exactly where he had left them. Also I know that there were times that he did not smoke the entire Christmas Eve evening, but he still had to have his pipe and tobacco. Finally Dad would have gotten the stuff in his pockets and we would go on to church. Usually church services started about 7:00 and ran till 9:30 or 10:00. Something had always happened at home while we were gone. Without fail while we were at church, Santa Claus would have slipped in and left presents for the entire family. So there was only one thing to do and that was to open the presents up and see what he had brought to us. We did that Christmas Eve instead of Christmas morning.
When we were in Kansas this last autumn I was lucky enough to have an opportunity to visit the Methodist church for a chicken noodle dinner. There were only a few people there that I recognized and a few others that I remembered after I heard their names. The church has not changed any that I can tell. I wanted some pictures of the inside of the church. While we were waiting for a place to sit and eat I was walking around taking pictures and speaking to some of the others that were waiting. To one fellow I said that the only thing missing was a large Christmas tree in the corner, and he said, "With bags of candy and nuts and a orange." So the tradition goes on in the church where I grew up. It was a good feeling to know that the kids of the church still get their bag of goodies at Christmas time.
While there are some things that I miss I think that I like things down here a bit better than where I have spent Christmas before. On Christmas Day our temperature reached 830F. We have had some cold days here, down in the upper thirties. But while those temperatures are cold here (at least to winter Texans) they are still a long ways above the temperatures that are not much farther north. I can look anywhere within this park and see citrus fruit ready to pick off the trees and blooming flowers. In times past there have been jokes about being from some state because you used both the heater and the AC on the same day. It works that way here, especially in a motor home. The metal sides pull the heat in during the sunny days, making the AC desirable, and then late in the evening or towards morning the temperature will require the heater to come on to take the chill out of the air.
There is certainly one thing that I hope does not become a tradition. While we were heading south a little earlier this year there was another motor home that caught fire and burnt in the campground where we were staying. Last year two people were burnt and were going to require substantial hospital time. At least this year there were no injuries. The owners of the motor home had been up late watching the election results come in, and then left to spend some time at a local casino. While they were at the casino the fire started, the fire trucks came and the fire was put out. The firemen finished their work and left after a few hours. The owners came home some time after that to a totally dark campground with no indication that anything had happened. They didn't have a clue of any problem until they drove into their parking spot. That had to be a real shock. Then on Christmas night there was a park model that caught fire here in this park. The report was that there were eight fire trucks and ambulances that responded to the fire. Again the people that lived in the park model were down at one of the recreation halls and not in the unit, so there was not any injury. Now the residents of the park model next to it have not arrived here from the north so they were not there to find out that their home received some damage to the outside of their unit. I suppose some one will call them and let them know.
This resort was built in the location of a former citrus orchard so there are lots of citrus trees throughout the whole place. There is about any kind of citrus fruit that a person can think of. Hurricane Dolly caused a lot of fruit to be lost but for sure not the majority. A neighbor asked me the other day if I wanted a large lemon. I said yes and we walked to a lot a couple streets away and I was amazed at what he showed me. In the picture below is a lemon tree in the front area of a site where no one is living this year. In the lots like that it is acceptable to pick a few fruits for personal consumption. Believe it or not those are lemons that are larger than most grapefruit. These are the size of five or six average grocery sized lemons. Right in the middle of this picture are two lemons right together. When I left there was only one. There are a lot of green lemons that will be ripening in the next few weeks.
LEMON TREE IN VACANT LOT IN BENTSEN GROVE RV PARK
I have made a promise to write of the dumb things that I have done or have happened to me. So here is the most recent occurrence. On the 12th of December I started to learn more respect for those people in our society that live all the time with a single hand. I started to go out in the evening on a errand on my bike but I managed to take a fall not more than fifteen foot from my door. I finished the errand and waited till the next day to find out what I had done to my hand. The x-ray that was taken was inconclusive, but the swelling was typical of injuries of the wrist that included a break or crack. So to error on the side of caution the Dr splinted my right hand. For ten days I had very little use of that hand. It is amazing how many of the everyday things that we do automatically become difficult when there is a hand out of commission. Things like putting on socks, or buttoning shirts or zipping the zipper on clothes. Writing one handed on the computer becomes very difficult, I have never learned to type with one finger and for sure not one finger on the left hand, maybe I could do it better with a finger on the right hand. After ten days I went to see another Dr for a follow up. More x-rays were taken. The Dr looked at the x-ray film and said, "We got lucky, there are not any broken bones." That was a good Christmas present. He said I would not need the splint. The swelling is down, the color of the bruise is about normal and every day there is improvement in movement. It in nice to take a normal shower and to be able to type or eat with some normality. But Erma is still doing the driving so far.
Till later this is Doug of
Peace On The Road
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