Thursday 17 December 2015

REFLECTIONS ON CHRISTMAS

Jean-Paul

It started early every year for me.  While I recovered from the shock of the end of summer freedom, that long-awaited event arrived: the coming-in-the-mail of the Eatons and Simpsons-Sears Christmas catalogues! 

Even before I stopped ‘believing’, Mom let me choose one gift from the catalogue and fill out the order before sending it off.  When the precious parcel finally arrived, I’d unwrap it, just to make sure they’d sent the right thing.  Then look adoringly at the unopened package every day, barely able to contain myself.

Cousin Aubrey exploded the Santa myth for me when I was nine.  One day, he casually told me: “Santa Claus isn’t real, you know!”  Because he was four years older, and seemed to know everything about anything, it was enough to sow doubt in my mind.  When he showed me his presents from Santa Claus in Cliff and Tina’s attic, well, the jig was up!

In this blog, I’ll explore my own reflections on childhood Christmases, adding wonderful vignettes from Elva’s early years.  As adults, we’re all marked by childhood experiences, whether we want to admit it or not.  And so it is with Christmas memories.

My maternal grandmother died when I was six.  After that, Mom and I spent Christmas alone.  As the manager of the Wellington Coop, she worked long hours in the weeks leading up to the Holiday Season.  By the time it came, she was usually exhausted.  While she kept on a brave face, I could always tell it was a hard time of year for her.  Especially on Christmas Day, when we sat at the dinner table, just the two of us.  I could tell she was missing loved ones who weren’t there.

Now, I had my own theory on why she was so tired: too much damn church!  Yes sir, the Catholic Season of Advent was the price a little boy like me had to pay before enjoying the rewards of Christmas.  There was just no getting around it.  As if Sundays, first-Fridays and Holy Days of Obligation weren’t enough, it seemed like we were parked in a pew every day for the whole month of December, listening to Father MacDonald drone on about prayer and penance!

December also brings back fonder memories of recipes made on the kitchen table and of things baking in the oven.  Mom was a good cook and especially liked to get things ready for Christmas: pâtés, gum drop cake, fruit cake and, my favourite, shortbread (she called them ‘Scotch cookies’).  I can still smell them, and I’ve never tasted better!

When Christmas Eve finally came, the wait was worth it.  After supper, Wilfred Arsenault, my godmother Fedora’s husband, brought me one of my favourite gifts.  Our tradition had us opening gifts before Midnight Mass.  As soon as the dishes were done, to the parlour we went, the two of us, and dug in to the pile under the tree.

Mom always got me something special, “from Santa Claus”, she’d say.  There were always presents from my aunts and uncles - clothes, mostly - and a book from Aunt Josie.  “Why couldn’t she get me something I like,” I’d think as I tore the paper off the tell-tale package.  And, every year, the box of Moirs Pot of Gold chocolates from Linus MacDonald.  Seems my father, when he’d been in politics, had helped Linus land the job of postmaster in Richmond.  Whatever!  Chocolates never tasted so good!

Then it was off to Midnight Mass, where Mom and the Gaudet Girls, sisters Bernice and Tina, sang in the ladies’ choir.  I hated getting there early.  It meant I’d miss seeing the ‘heathens’ who occupied the back row - “Christmas and Easter Catholics”, a saintly neighbour called them.  If I was lucky, some would make their way up to Communion, and I’d be able to guess who’d “Had a few.”

Then came Mom’s turn to sing her solo, O Holy Night.  Aunt Tina played the organ and Aunt Bernice directed the choir.  Yvonne had a beautiful voice.  With Communion over, everyone sat quietly while she sang the verses in English and French while the full choir repeated the chorus.  The memory of it still gives me goose bumps.  That, to me, was the best part of Christmas!

Elva grew up in a very different environment,with loving parents, making those childhood Christmas memories with brothers and sisters, two grandmothers and a great-aunt.

Elva

I have such wonderful childhood memories of the Holiday Season; engraved in my mind’s eye, as if from yesterday.  I’d like to share with you my collection of images of Christmases past, from the years before my youngest brothers and sisters - Carmen, Lionel, Lucille, and Alice - were born.  (The photo below shows Marie-Rose à Félicien, Mémé Lalie, Maman Aline, Rose, me, Mémé Mélanie, Albin, Félicien, Alfred, and Papa Joseph.)


The Christmas concert at Saint-Chrysostôme School in 1958

Scene 1    Beautiful drawings of Christmas scenes, in coloured chalk, decorate the blackboard in the ‘big school’, la classe des grands.
Scene 2    Grade 1 pupils chant enthusiastically: C’est Noël, c’est Noël, la fête la plus belle…  From left to right are my classmates: Maurice à Frank à Xavier, Marcel à José à Philimon, Peter à Théodore à Pierre, Albina à Alphonse à Pierre, Yvonne à Alyre à Théophile, Barbara à Elzie à Gil, and me, Elva à Jos Denis.
Scene 3    Near the front door, Santa Claus, surrounded by children, hands out small brown paper bags filled with candy.  Mémé Lalie, Mémé Mélanie and our neighbour, Eufrida à Victorin, also appear in this scene.

Picking the Christmas tree in 1959

Scene 1    Hitched to the two bob-sleighs, our horse, Prince, stands quietly on the trail in our woodlot.
Scene 2    My father, Joseph, cuts the balsam fir; the one I like the best.
Scene 3    The bob-sleighs are piled with logs and we sit atop them.  Sitting in front, my father holds the reins, while Alfred and me hold the tree.
Scene 4    My mother, Aline, and my grandmother, Mélanie, who lives with us, greet us at the door.

Presents from Santa Claus in the early ‘60s

Scene 1    Alfred, Rose, Albin and me lie on our stomachs on our toy sleighs as we speed down the snowbank in front of our house.  The full moon lights the way on this Christmas night.
Scene 2    From left to right, Albin, Rose, me, and Alfred, sit impatiently on the ice of the little brook near our neighbour’s, Étienne à Jack.  My father helps us lace up our brand new Christmas skates.
Scene 3    Alfred carries his little hammer, his saw, and the newspaper rack he’s made.  The pattern includes scrolls that were hard to cut out.  Alfred is very proud of his accomplishment and happy to show it to us.
Scene 4    Rose and me, wearing high heels and cradling our dolls, attend mass in Albin’s bedroom.  He wears his little chasuble and prayer shawl, both gifts from Santa Claus.

The lesson: Appearances can be deceiving!

Scene 1    My father arrives home from the Post Office in Richmond, carrying the big box sent by Honoré.  Honoré is my mother’s adopted brother.  An orphan, he was raised by my grandparents.
Scene 2    On either side of the big box, my mother places many other presents under the tree on this Christmas Eve.
Scene 3    Albin, Rose and me examine and shake them, trying to guess what’s inside.
Scene 4    Rose and me are crying.  We’re sad because we’re getting a very small present from our parents.  Albin and Alfred, them, have a big present from Maman and Papa.
Scene 5    After supper, we open several gifts, including those that made us cry.  What a surprise!  Rose and me proudly hold our new embroidery kit.  As for Alfred and Albin, we can read the disappointment on their faces.  On my grandmother’s too.  She didn’t know what my brothers would get as their joint present.  It’s a piss pot!
Scene 6    Standing in the doorway of the living room, my mother explains: “I just wanted to make sure there were lots of presents to open this Christmas!”
Scene 7    Christmas morning, we discover that Santa Claus brought us more presents.  Everyone is happy!

I don’t remember all the presents we got from Santa Claus that Christmas.  But I do remember the lesson: Appearances can be deceiving!

At Saint-Philippe-et-Saint-Jacques Church in the early ‘60s

Scene 1    It’s New Years Day!  Even Prince has his best bridle on for the drive to church.  “Did you put on his bells?”, my mother asks.  “Of course!  We have to start off the year right”, answers my father.  Mémé Mélanie climbs into our red sleigh first.  Next, the children, then Maman and Papa, all snug under the ‘buffaloes’.  Serenaded by the sound of the bells, we enjoy this wonderful sleigh ride.  Just before we get to Gus à Clovis’, the majestic and beautiful Egmont-Bay Church comes into view.

Scene 2    Upstairs in the choir loft, Jos Manuel, Cyrus à Jos Manuel, Eddy and Amand à Arcade, and Alyre à Philippe Marc, sing Christmas carols.
Scene 3    I place pennies in the angel bank that stands at the front of the crèche that Christmas morning.  I’m fascinated because he thanks me by nodding his head.  The figures in the crèche rest comfortably on what look like big boulders.

Holiday Season, from December 24 to January 6, Feast of the Kings

Scene 1    A card party.  From left to right, Albin, Aunt Madeleine, Benoît Cormier, Zélica à Étienne, Alfred, Délina à Benoît, Étienne à Jack, and Uncle Gus.  We don’t have electricity.  A big lantern lights the kitchen.

Scene 2    Uncle Franky, Uncle Léo, Uncle Albert and my father play crokinole in the kitchen this New Year’s Eve.  (In the photo, Uncle Franky is second from the left in the back row, and Uncle Léo is next to my father in the middle row.  Others in the back row are Uncle Willie, Aunt Hélène, Mémé Lucianne and Pépé José, and Uncle Levi.  In the front, Uncle Peter, Uncle Albert, and Uncle Edward.)

Scene 3    The table overflows with food for the evening’s ‘lunch’.  There are different kinds of sweets: doughnuts, date squares, cranberry squares, sugar cookies with icing on top, a fruit cake.  Delicious pâté is also on the menu for this special occasion.
Scene 4    Our neighbour, Corinne à Alyre à Théophile, and her three daughters, Yvonne, Edna, and Bella, admire our Christmas tree and our presents on this beautiful winter afternoon.

In our home, when I was a little girl, the days leading up to Christmas and all during the Holidays were filled with joy.  My parents, Joseph and Aline, loved this time of year.  It was the same for my grandmother, Mélanie.  Since they loved company, we always had a houseful.  Neighbours, friends and relatives came to visit during the Holidays, and we did the same.

From a young age, we children were involved in all of the family’s daily activities.  Our contributions to household and farm chores were much appreciated.  Come Christmas, presents from Santa Claus were our parents’ way of thanking us.


The Holiday Season is a time for enjoyment.  And, yes, Santa Claus always brings a surprise for child and adult alike.  Even if Christmas is more commercialized these days, this time of the year continues to amaze me!