Christmas Traditions, Part One

I'm just writing down a few things I remember about Christmas at our house when I was a kid. Just some little things that our family always did that helped make the season special. Bridget's post made me start thinking about it.
This is part one. I'll get to part two in a few days. And anyone who was a participant (or bystander) in these traditions is welcome to comment and remind me of details I may have forgotten. Or if you would like to share you own Christmas traditions, please feel free to comment.


Santa Face
Artistically etched in fake snow on the front window of the house, was the giant face of jolly old St. Nick. Mom's prowess with the canned snow was legendary in our neck of the woods. She could create a jolly Santa face, 10x larger than life OR add just a hint of faux frost to the corners of the window pane for that crisp, wintry feel.


The Christmas Bush

This is how we affectionately referred to our Christmas tree each year. Mom always insisted on a cedar tree which we cut down ourselves and laboriously trimmed and pruned to a size that would fit in to the living room. It was always decorated with an assortment of mismatched, well-beloved ornaments; lit with multi-colored bubble lights and draped with fake snow, plastic icicles and LOTS of tinsel (remember those filmy, silvery strands that would get spread all over the house by New Year's? Do they even make that kind of tinsel anymore?)

As we got older, my sister's and I protested gently against the self-cut, be-tinseled tree, feeling it was a bit unsophisticated. I mean look at the nice, neat trees some of our friend's had: all pre-lit and color coordinated and perfectly sculpted! But Mom persevered. Her logic on the issue was along these lines: A store bought tree? Who would spend money on such a thing! And what would Christmas BE without that cedar-tree smell in the house? And what's wrong with bubble lights, anyway? You girls!

How can you fight that kind of logic? ;0)
And nowadays, I look back and realize I wouldn't trade my memories of our Christmas bushes for all the color coordinated, perfectly trimmed trees in the world.

The Christmas Eve Party


This was just SO exciting. It would take place in the basement and we kids were allowed to help decorate. Mom had quite the stash of shiny, turquoise garland (it matched the carpet down there, OK?) and we tacked it to the walls and ceiling and wrapped it around light fixtures and any where else there might be a nook or cranny where it would fit. Fun, fun, fun!!!

The house would be filled with aunts and uncles and cousins and friends and classic Christmas tunes from Dad's state of the art stereo system (big as a full-size couch and had a 3-speed turntable. Yep.)

The two highlights of every Christmas Eve party were the arrival of Santa and being allowed to open one precious, precious gift from under the tree.

Santa's arrival was always awaited with longing and hope and a little tinge of fear, too. Every adult there had to remind you of Santa's impending arrival at least once when you spoke to them. "Have you been good? Santa's coming to the party later, you know!" Yeh. Liiiiiitle tinge of fear. I never doubted that I had made Santa's "Good" list----until it was time to meet him face to face. But when he did arrive he was always jolly and kind and boisterous and you didn't want him to leave. But he had a busy night ahead, so he needed to get going. And I never DID get to see the reindeer. But some (slightly tipsy) relative or other would always assure me that THEY had seen them, in all their glory, Rudolph in the lead, parked with the sleigh on the roof or the hillside. In fact, I remember Dad coming in one Christmas morn (stone cold sober, mind you) saying that there were inexplicable deer tracks all OVER the hillside by the house. And so the legend lived on. :0)

When all of the guests had parted, we would be allowed the incredibly exciting privilege of opening one of our gifts. This made the early, anxious desire for the guests to arrive gradually change into a secret longing for the party to be over. Then it was time to choose the gift. Oh, the pressure, the anxiety of choosing which gift to open! Feverishly but oh-so-respectfully was the gift pile picked through (NO furious digging or you had to wait until morning!!)to find each precious item with my name on it. Absolutely exquisite, suspenseful joy! The gift was unwrapped and all the happiness that only a kid at Christmastime can feel was experienced. There really IS nothing like being a kid on Christmas.