Family Christmas Parties

When I was a very young child, our Christmas Eve always began with a trip to my great-grandmother's house to have Christmas with the Thurman side of the family.  Mama Thurman was a widow and lived in a small neighborhood in  Houston in a teeny tiny wood frame house.  I think it was a 2 bedroom, 1 bath home with an eat-in kitchen and a small living room.  We would gather together and there would be cookies and punch and cake.  Everyone would bring a gift for Mama Thurman.  I remember one year my mother bought her a little musical angel for her gift.  She rotated on her base and played "Silent Night".  Mama Thurman loved her.  Years later, I got that little angel back and she still played so sweetly.  She was always precious memory to me.

I will never know how all of us managed to cram inside of that little house!  The women tended to congregate in the kitchen and the living room.  I remember Mama Thurman sitting in her chair in the living room and everyone would take turns sitting near her to give her a present and visit a minute.  I think most of the menfolk, after an obligatory 10 minute meet-and-greet inside the house, went out back to the yard (when the weather wasn't too cold or wet) to talk and pass a bottle around.  I know that my dad often got started on his Christmas "cheer" pretty early in the evening, and I'm pretty sure my southern Baptist Mama Thurman didn't allow any drinking inside the house.  I even remember one Christmas Eve I found my dad passed out, snoring on one of Mama Thurman's chenille bedspreads in the spare bedroom.  Oooh, was my mother mad at him that year!  I don't think he ever did that again.

While there were many, many Thurman aunts and uncles, it seemed there were never many cousins my age.  So while it was exciting to be at a party, we didn't do a gift exchange and I was always ready to leave fairly quickly after we arrived.

After we had Christmas with the Thurman family, it was time to have Christmas with the Gibson family.  I do remember some really big parties when I was very, very young. We were a large family with many aunts, uncles, and cousins of all ages.   I remember going to various cousins' houses and I know we had one such gathering at our house one Christmas.  I remember the women were all so pretty in their party dresses of shiny satin or silk taffeta skirts!  Their waists were narrow and belted; the skirts were big and wide, stiff with starch and some wore petticoats that made rustling sounds when they swished by you.  All the women wore heels and nylons, too.  It was a very dressy affair for them, although I don't remember the men being in full suits.  I do remember lots of white dress shirts and ties, but I don't remember the men wearing suit jackets.

The children would also be dressed up in their Christmas best.  Little girls wore dresses or jumpers made of red  or green velvet or maybe black velvet embellished with tiny sparkling rhinestones.  Crisp white blouses with Peter Pan collars, ruffled white ankle socks and shiny black patent leather shoes were de rigueur, of course.  Our hair was tightly curled and ruthlessly pulled up high in the back with a big bow, ringlets falling like waterfalls from a crown.  Boys would be dressed in their best dark slacks, crisply creased, with short sleeved starched white shirts and little plaid bow ties.  The boys' hair would be cut neat and short, combed stiff with Brylcreem, or perhaps a dab of mom's Dippity Do. There were no jeans and tee shirts at parties in the sixties!  We were all dressed to the nines, as they said back then.

I think hi-balls must have been the drink of choice back then.  I remember lots of clinking ice cubes in short, thick-bottomed glasses. I remember the smell and fizz of 7-Up being used as a mixer, but funny, but I don't remember sodas or Cokes ever being offered as drink choices, not even for the kids.   People were loud and laughing and excitement fairly shimmered in the air, sparked no doubt by the shots of flowing Christmas cheer!  I do remember we had a set of champagne glasses at our house, but I never remember the sound of popping corks.  I never saw a bottle of wine in anyone's house. Heavy dark brown beer bottles were always around though.  And there was always a punch bowl with lime sherbet punch made with ginger ale for us kids.

There was more food at the big Gibson family parties on Christmas Eve.  In addition to tables full of pies, cakes, cookies, and punch, I remember hot hors d'oeuvres and dips and chips.  Nuts, olives and pickles of all kinds were set in bowls all around the living rooms, as well as lots of little pillow shaped pastel butter mints. Stalks of green celery filled with orange pimiento cheese seemed to be ever-present as well.  But I never remember any ethnic foods being offered.  There was no Tex Mex, no Italian, no Chinese foods on display.  (In fact, I was sixteen before I ever even tasted a pizza!  But that's another story . . .)

At some point though, these traditions fell away.  Mama Thurman gave up living on her own in her little house and the Thurman Family Christmas party disappeared.  I think the Gibsons must all have agreed that the family was just too big for any one person to host all of us in their house.  And we morphed into smaller more easily managed groups.

My own family began to gather every Christmas Eve at either our home or one of my dad's siblings.  The sisters-in-law took turns hosting each year.  Then on Christmas Day we would gather at my grandparent's home.  None of our houses were very large, but they always seemed to be more than adequate to host our family gatherings.  At our largest census, we were 15 in all: 8 adults and 7 kids.

Christmas Eve was a time of great fun for all of us cousins.  We would play together and tell stories of what we hoped Santa would bring.  We would run outside to look at the Christmas lights and check for Santa's sleigh.  Many times we would stay up way past our bedtime, which was cause for excitement in and of itself!  The grownups would talk and laugh, too, drinking and eating and enjoying each other's company.  I remember the absolute joy of those evenings, knowing I was loved and accepted, knowing I belonged in my family.

We always did a small gift exchange as well.  The adults would "draw names" at Thanksgiving, and then exchange presents on Christmas Eve.  The cousins all bought a gift for each cousin.  I remember my mom was always a bit "put out" every year by this process.  I was an only child and my cousins were all in sets of three.  Mom would always quietly tell me that while THEY only had to buy one present for me, SHE had to buy SIX.  My grandparents, Mommaw and Pop Gibson, would also give their gifts out on Christmas Eve.  Their presents were never big or lavish, but no one cared.  It was the thought that counted!  

As we grew older, more awareness of family dynamics emerged.  I was an only child, and of course my cousins all had brothers and sisters, a fact that I envied at times.  I was also aware that my cousins all had other grandparents and families that they visited on Christmas.  But for some reason, I never questioned the fact that I only had one set of grandparents.  That all changed when I was about 10 years old.  My mom's parents, after a 10-year estrangement, suddenly decided that they wanted to make up.  It was quite a shock to discover that I had another side to my family.  My mom was also an only child, so it was just my Grandma and Grandpa Claussen.  And I didn't like them!

There are complicated reasons behind family estrangements.  I won't go into all of them here.  But all of a sudden our Christmas Day routine changed.  Now, after having "Santa Claus" at our house in the mornings, we had to go over to my new grandparents' house before we could go to my "real" grandparents.  We would sit in their little house and listen to my grandmother play something or other the organ.  (If it was a Christmas carol, I couldn't recognize it--and I was a musical child.  It was painful to listen to her play.)  There would be drinks and snacks to eat.  And then they would pass out the presents.  As selfish as it sounds now, that was the only part of the whole visit that I liked.  Being the only grandchild, and having missed out on the first 10 years of my life, my grandparents tried to make up for it with lavish gifts.  It was fun, but it didn't make me like them any better. I was always so relieved when the visit was over.

But in spite of all the presents that arrived on Christmas Day, Christmas Eve remained the high point of the whole celebration to me. Our family parties were exciting and magical.  Once we were old enough, we cousins often were allowed to play card games or dominoes with the grownups at the kitchen table.  And music was always a big part of our celebration as well.  We sang all the Christmas carols we knew over and over again each year.  As children in the sixties, we had record players and vinyl records.  My favorite was Christmas With the Chipmunks!  I loved that album.  I can still sing every song on there.  The anticipation of Christmas morning ran high, almost eclipsing the actual event.  The grown ups were happy and in good moods (unlike sometimes on Christmas morning when a lack of sleep and an excess of Christmas cheer made them slightly grumpy!), teasing and playing with us.  The night literally rang with laughter and song.

Eventually though the heads of the children would begin to droop and heavy eyelids fluttered closed.  We would disperse to our own houses, to be carried in from backseats of cars and gently tucked up in our beds, awaiting the arrival of Santa the next morning.  And Christmas Eve would close silently, quietly, with peace in our souls.

A New Year's Tale

A New Year’s Tale

The winds howled and the sea boiled around the tiny island located just off the coast of the Bermuda.  No human eyes had ever seen the island, located in the middle of the infamous Bermuda Triangle, although many suspected it was there. A tall craggy mountain rose majestically in the center of the island, so high that mysterious clouds enveloped its peak and hid from view the secret glass castle perched there. The beach far below was covered in glittering white sand that sparkled like tiny diamonds whenever the bright sunlight shone down upon Tempus Island.  But there was no sun today.  It was December 31^st, and the old year was coming to an end.

So, too, was Father Time as he shuffled along the parapet of his enormous glass castle that sat high upon Mount Century in the center of island.  “My time is almost up,” thought the old man. “I must prepare for the new year coming.” 

He gazed for a long moment across the horizon, not seeing the crashing waves and churning sea foam, but the distant shores of the many lands he must visit before midnight.  The swirling winds ruffled his long white beard and his robes played chase around his ankles, but the old man was not bothered by the weather.  He had long been acquainted with Mother Nature and knew her tantrums, though fierce, were short-lived.  She was merely marking the passage of time, impatient for her new offspring to ascend to the throne. 

Straightening his back, he turned with a purpose and began the long descent down the winding staircase to the first floor of the castle.  It was time to visit the nursery.

Now it might seem strange to some that there should be a nursery in Old Father Time’s castle, but in fact he had been born there himself.  Each year a new Baby New Year was born in the castle and was carefully nurtured until New Year’s Eve arrived.  Then, at the stroke of midnight, Old Father Time would give his sacred hour glass filled with the sands of time to the new Baby New Year.  The hour glass would flip over and the sands would begin to trickle down again.  A brand new year was born, and with it, a brand new Father Time.

But now it was time for Old Father Time to have a talk with Baby New Year and prepare him for his duties for the coming year.

As he approached the nursery, Father Time noted the hands on the ancient grandfather clock in the hall were running backwards, just as they were supposed to.  Only 4 hours left ‘til midnight!  Still, the old man grinned as he shuffled forward.  Human beings were always wishing they could turn back the hands of time, but it was only possible here on Tempus Island.  “Time waits for no man” he chuckled, “but there’s no time like the present!”  And with that thought, he opened the nursery door.

Baby New Year, clad only in a diaper, was sitting in a golden crib happily playing with a rattle in the shape of a goat.  Nearby, three small nymphs—Happiness, Luck, and Prosperity—were busy embroidering a new sash for him to wear.  Father Time smiled to see the toy. 

“Ah, yes, I see your gift has arrived from China,” he said, smiling at the chubby infant.  2015 would be the Year of the Goat according to the Chinese calendar.  It was customary for the Chinese to give small gifts to celebrate the new year.

Father Time lifted Baby New Year from his crib and sat down in a nearby rocker, balancing the boy on his knee.  “Well, young fella,” he began, “it’s time for you and I to have a talk.” 

The baby just grinned and bounced up and down.  Baby New Year wouldn’t talk until after midnight, but he understood old Father Time very well.  “Gah,” he said, drooling a bit as he shook his goat rattle.

Father Time snapped his fingers and a very old globe floated off a corner shelf and wafted across the room until it was hovering just in front of them.  With a whish of his hand, he set the globe to spinning slowly on its axis.  Baby New Year dropped the rattle and stared with fascination at the whirling blue ball, flashing with bright colors, beckoning them to touch it. 

“Oooooh,” he said, enchanted with the new toy.

“Now this, young fella, is The World.  See how it turns?  That’s Time passing.  Every day the world gets just a little bit older, and starting tomorrow, it’s going to be your job to keep track of it.”

Baby New Year looked up at Father Time in surprise.

 

“Tomorrow,” announced Father Time in his deep weighty voice, “is New Year’s Day.  The first day of the new year.  It’s going to be your year, Baby—it’s almost 2015.”

Baby New Year burped slightly and stuck his fist in his mouth in awe.  Happiness, Luck and Prosperity, the three nymphs who followed Baby New Year wherever he went, put down the sash they were embroidering to listen to Father Time’s tale.

“Each year the humans who inhabit this World gather together to celebrate the beginning of the new year.  On New Year’s Eve—that’s tonight, Baby--they have feasts and celebrations with bonfires and fireworks.  They sing songs and make merry and drink champagne at midnight.  Sometimes they give each other gifts.  Many of them have parades or games.  Oh, it’s a grand beginning to the new year, and it’s been going on for centuries now!”

“Long, long ago I lived on a different island called Greece.  The Greek people called me Chronos, which means “time”, and we were very close.  I lived among them and assisted them with their harvests.  See my scythe leaning there in the corner?  Each fall I would use my sickle to clear away the old harvests to make room for the new crops to come in the spring.  Mother Nature would help, too, by sending the killing frosts each winter.  It was sad to see the old crops die, but it was necessary to cast off the old to make room for the new.”

“Later I moved to the city of Rome and lived among the ancient Romans.  The Romans called me Saturn and worshiped me as the Deity of Time.  I was still a farmer then, and the people turned to me for help with their annual crops.”

“Eventually, though, the world grew too populated and some men began to waste Time.  Some of them even wanted to kill Time.  They confused me with the Grim Reaper—he who brings death.  It became imperative that I move.  So Triton, the Sea King, created this special island for me from the sands of time, and set a protective barrier around it to protect our home from man.  Since that time, we have had very few visitors here on Tempus Island.  Mother Nature still comes to call on us sometimes.”  He paused a moment and frowned.  “But she’s prickly, that one,” he muttered, “always blowing in on a gale or a hurricane.”

“Gah?” said Baby New Year.

“Hmph,” said Father Time, shaking himself back to the present, “never mind about her.  The point is, Baby, that tonight is New Year’s Eve, and you and I must travel around the world to welcome in the new year!”

 

“Now I want you to reach out and touch a spot on the globe.  Hurry now, we’ve only got a few hours before we have to leave and I have much to teach you.”  He cast a stern eye at Happiness, Luck and Prosperity, who suddenly recalled the embroidery in their hands and bent once more to their task. 

Baby New Year stared at the whirling globe with enormous eyes as he “ooh’d” and “aah’d” at the choices before him.  Finally he stuck out one chubby baby finger and poked right in the middle of a big green spot.  “Gah!” he said.

“Ahh, very good, Baby,” said Old Father Time, pleased.  “You have selected the United States of America.  An excellent place to begin.  In America, there are many different cultures and many traditions to discover.  We will travel there tonight, first to a place they call Times Square in New York City.  Thousands of people gather there each year to celebrate New Year’s Eve.”

“Americans like to have big parties on New Year’s Eve.  They wear funny hats and blow noise makers to scare away the old year.  As midnight approaches, they carefully watch the clock and together they count down the last 10 seconds before midnight.  Then the skies erupt with fireworks!  People hug and kiss and shout “Happy New Year!” to one another.  And then they begin to sing.”

Father Time cleared his throat and in a surprisingly strong voice began to sing, “Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind, Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and days of Auld Lang Syne.”

Baby New Year frowned in confusion at this song.  He couldn’t understand some of the words in that song at all!

Father Time laughed and chucked him under the chin.  “Cheer up, young fella, it’s not that hard.  ‘Auld Lang Syne’ is a song the Scots brought to American many years ago.  It simply means to remember the good old days.”

Baby New Year nodded and clapped his hands together.  He was enjoying the story Father Time was telling him.

“The next day is January 1^st.  That is New Year’s Day in America and in many other countries as well.  Americans like to watch parades and football games on New Year’s Day.  Some of them also eat special foods, such as black-eyed peas and cabbage, they believe will bring them luck and wealth in the new year.  But one of the most important things they do that day is to make their New Year’s resolution.  A resolution is a promise they make to improve some area of their lives over the coming new year.” 

“Now, it just so happens that there are many different people living in the United States, and some of them have kept the traditions and customs they brought with them from own cultures.”

“You see this big country here?” he asked Baby New Year, pointing to Mexico.  “The Mexican people celebrate New Year’s by having a big family dinner.  They decorate their houses with special colors that they believe will bring blessings to their families.  Red is for love, green is for money, white is for health, and yellow is for employment.  They also have special foods that they enjoy.  Each year, at the stroke of midnight, pan dulce—or sweet bread—is served to all the guests, and guess what?  There is a special coin baked into the bread.  The guest who gets the piece with the coin will have extra good luck throughout the new year.”

“Not every culture celebrates New Year on the same day though.  The Chinese celebrate their New Year in late January or early February.  And you know what?  Their party lasts for 15 days!”

Baby New Year’s eyes grew very round at that.  A 15-day party?  What fun!  He waved his hands in excitement.

“The Chinese like to celebrate with lots of fireworks and parades.  They especially like to set off fire crackers!  They make big colorful paper maché dragons to parade through the streets and the people wear colorful masks and costumes.  On the morning of New Year’s Day, parents leave little red envelopes filled with money for their children to find.  According to the Chinese calendar, every year is named after a special animal.  This year will be the Year of the Goat.  The Chinese believe that people born during this year will have many of the characteristics of the goat.”

Baby New Year scrunched up his little eyes and tried very hard to “meh” like a goat.  The three nymphs giggled at his antics and Baby New Year bounced up and down on Old Father Time’s knee again, happy and smiling. 

“The Jewish people also celebrate New Year’s, but they do so in September.  For them the holiday is called Rosh Hashanah, and it is not so much a party as a religious holiday.  However, just like so many other people, they have a big meal with special foods and traditions just for the new year.  They begin their meal by eating apples and honey, so that they will have sweetness and good fortune in the year to come.  Sometimes they eat honey cakes or they bake a special round loaf of bread called challah which they break apart and dip in the honey.”

“In fact, Baby, you’re going to be very busy with New Year’s celebrations all around the world for the whole year.  But right now, it’s time for you and me to get dressed and get ready to go to our first New Year’s Eve party of the night!”

With that, the three nymphs—Happiness, Luck and Prosperity—fluttered across the room holding a shimmering white sash embroidered with gold thread and settled it gently around Baby New Year’s shoulders.  The sash said, “Happy New Year-2015!”  Baby looked down at the sash in surprise. 

“Ah, yes, very nice—very nice work, ladies!” praised Old Father Time.  Happiness, Luck and Prosperity blushed and giggled, then gathered up their baskets of blessings, ready to follow Baby New Year, 2015. 

“You are Baby Number Two Thousand and Fifteen,” announced Old Father Time to the infant sitting on his lap. “A good name for a very good year.”

He chuckled as he stood and murmured to himself, “Had to give up naming ’em all centuries ago!  There’ve just been too darn many of them.”

Father Time sat Baby New Year back in his crib while he gathered up his own equipment to take with him.  He retrieved his scythe from the corner and then fished around in the pockets of his voluminous robe until he found his hourglass.  The sand was almost gone but there was still time for one last journey.

The three nymphs unwound a soft sling made of diaphanous cloth and lifted Baby New Year from his crib onto it.  They each picked up a corner and fluttered quietly upwards, ready to travel. 

Old Father New Year approached the hovering globe and with a mighty wave of his hand, sent it spinning dizzily around.  Lightning flashed and the winds outside the castle howled ferociously as the globe whirled faster and faster.  Baby New Year watched in awe as the globe began to grow in size until it was almost as large as the room itself, as transparent and shimmering as a giant soap bubble. 

“Ready everyone?” asked Old Father Time.

Baby New Year just sat there in his sling, wide-eyed, saying, “Gah,” but the three nymphs nodded eagerly. 

“Tempus Fugit!” cried Father Time, and stepped into the whirling globe, feeling just a bit sad to be leaving Tempus Island for the last time. 

Happiness, Luck, and Prosperity quickly followed, carrying the Baby New Year between them.  And as the swirling vortex began to carry them all away from the island, the three nymphs could be heard singing their New Year’s Eve song.  To some, it might have sounded a bit like “Row, Row, Row Your Boat”, but that would be silly, now wouldn’t it?

Ring, ring, ring the bells,

Ring them loud and clear!

The time has come for all to know

That New Year’s Day is near!

Author’s Note:  The custom of making a New Year’s resolution is an ancient one, dating back centuries.  Most people feel excited about the start of a new year and like the idea of a fresh start.  You will sometimes hear adults promise to lose weight or to quit smoking.  But there are resolutions that you can make as well.  See if you can pick one or two resolutions from the list below (or make up your own!) to keep throughout the year 2010.  Don’t try to do too many.  It’s easier to change just one habit at a time.

New Year's Resolutions for School Age Kids:

ü  I will do my homework on time.

ü  I will go to sleep on time.

ü  I will limit the amount of soda I drink.

ü  I will never give out personal information such as my name, home address, school name or telephone number on the Internet or to strangers.

ü  I will be friendly to kids who need friends—like someone who is shy, or is new to my school.

ü  I will wear my seat belt every time I get in a car. 

ü  I will try to find a sport (like basketball or soccer) or an activity (skipping rope, dancing or horse riding) that I like and do it at least three times a week!

New Year's Resolutions for Teens:

ü  I will limit the amount of soda I drink. 

ü  I will find a sport or any activity that I enjoy and do it at least three times a week.

ü  I will wear my seat belt every time I get in a car.

ü  I will resist peer pressure to try cigarettes, drugs and alcohol.

ü  I will wipe negative "self talk" (i.e., "I can't do it" or "I'm so dumb") out of my vocabulary.

ü  I will respect myself and others around me.  I will refrain from gossiping or bad-mouthing others.

ü  I will be nice to my parents and teachers and I will show them respect.

ü  I will help out in my community—through volunteering, working with community groups, or by joining a group that helps people in need.

ü  When I feel angry or stressed out, I will take a break and find constructive ways to deal with the stress, such as exercising, reading, writing in a journal or discussing my problem with a parent or friend.

ü  When faced with a difficult decision, I will talk with an adult about my choices.

ü  I will be careful about whom I choose to date, and always treat the other person with respect.

Here are some vocabulary words that you might want to look up: infamous, parapet, scythe, imperative, voluminous, diaphanous, tempus fugit, vortex