“The renewal of hope and faith in a world gone wrong - that is what Christmas
means to me now.”
It would not be easy for me to say which was the nicest Christmas I ever had, because no particular one stands out in my mind. Christmases divide themselves into two groups for me- childhood ones, and grown up ones. The main thing I remember about childhood Christmases is the fact that we were never allowed to get up early and race downstairs to look at our presents, or even see the tree. We had to wait till after breakfast - and breakfast was no light snack in the kitchen either, it was a good solid meal, served in the dining room for the entire assembled family which included Aunt and Uncle who always spent Christmas with us. We had to stay at the table until everyone was finished. When breakfast was finally over, the great moment arrived. My father opened the sliding door which separated the dining room and the parlor - that door was never shut except on Christmas morning.
In one corner of the parlor, the tree stood, decorated with colored metal balls, spun glass angels, silver tinsel rope, and huge candy canes. And under it were the things Santa Claus had brought us - some sort of quite substantial toy for each of my brothers and I. All the other presents were in the fireplace -why I don’t know, but there they always were. It was a very fancy Victorian tiled fireplace which nobody ever thought of building a fire in, and it didn’t seem as queer to me then as it does now. My aunt had the honor of distributing the presents. (You’ll notice I haven’t used the word gift - they were presents at our house, nobody seemed to be aware that there was such a word as gift.) She sat on the floor and handed them out one by one and waited till each one was opened and properly appreciated before she reached for the next one. The fireplace was usually pretty full it seemed to me. It took a long time to get to the bottom of the pile.
Not much remains today of these Christmases. Even yet nothing can be opened except before the assembled family. But Grandmother, Great Aunt, and Uncle are all dead, and we live in a house so small that there is no fireplace and not even room for a tree. So we content ourselves with putting a wreath on the door, candles in the window and piling the presents on top of the piano. “The old order changeth” and the happy excitement that once meant Christmas is something that will never return. The renewal of hope and faith in a world gone wrong - that is what Christmas means to me now. That and a certain lightheartedness that I can’t help feeling at the sound of familiar carols, the lighted trees, the excited children in the toy departments.But never a Christmas comes that I don’t wish to be a child again, wish once more to have the thrill of seeing that greatest of all sights - our parlor on Christmas morning.
Written by Elizabeth D Hobbs, December 1939
