Christmas Meme - Not!
Fri., December 9, 09:12 AM
When I saw a Christmas meme on someone else’s page, I started to dismiss it as completely wrong for me. For as far back as I can remember, I knew that we were Jewish and we didn’t celebrate Christmas. I don’t remember any resentment or envy involved; it was just the way things were.
Anyway, I’ve always been kind of klutzy regarding Christmas. Decorate the house? Pfft, I couldn’t even contribute to decorating a classroom or a college dorm. I usually enjoy the holiday mood, but Christmas is just not me. I try to keep in mind what my mother told me: “You know Santa Clause is not real, but don’t tell the other kids. You don’t want to spoil their fun.” It still tends to be my attitude.
Nevertheless, I do remember being taken to the neighbors’ on Christmas mornings – more than once – to see their Christmas trees. (The Hargroves always had “cotton” snow on their trees; the other families had tinsel.) As I remember, we didn’t exchange gifts; there might have been some cookies, but this was wartime, when sugar and butter were rationed. I might be remembering cookies from some other time.
My big cousins made me memorize the names of Santa’s reindeer and taught me the words to “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town.” My mother was disgusted, but she didn’t say anything to them. She probably thought there would be more harm done by forbidding else’s children than by my learning this stuff. Maybe it was the beginning of my memorizing anything I could.
I actually did visit Santa Claus once. I don’t think it was planned; that’s not the kind of thing my mother would do. More likely, we were shopping in C.O. Miller’s – the biggest department store in town – and I saw Santa Claus and asked to talk to him like the other kids. I sat on his lap, and he asked me if I remembered our tree from last year. “Oh, we don’t have a Christmas tree because we’re Jewish.” I didn’t understand why my mother was so embarrassed.
By the time I was in high school, there was a Bloomingdale’s in our town. It had the most beautiful animated Christmas window displays, and people used to come out just to see the windows. Bloomie’s was considered too expensive by most of the people I knew, but my mother worked there, so our family often shopped there.
Holiday plays. I was usually happy to sing in any chorus that was performing, but I begged out of a part in a pageant where I would have had to genuflect at the manger. I was about eight at that time, and I just couldn’t bring myself to do that. I don’t know if I could do it now either, but it’s not likely. If I tried it now, someone would have to pick me up.
In high school, where we had an orchestra, I always played in the Christmas program. We also had a choir that sang a capella, and it was thrilling to sit and listen to them. I usually sat near the baritones and just absorbed the harmony.
Christmas music. My favorites shift and change all the time. I learned many carols before I knew what they meant, so I could appreciate the music. One piece that stands out if Leroy Anderson’s “Christmas Festival,” which we played often. Whenever I hear it now, I find myself singing the clarinets or the trombones… I’ve always like “We Need a Little Christmas,” from Mame.
The one television Christmas special I miss is the Andy Williams show. I always felt it was more about family and friends than anything else. I never cared much for “Rudolph.” The other reindeer were pretty nasty, and even Santa ignored him until he needed him. Isn’t Christmas supposed to be about kindness?
Lots of young people dislike “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” which is certainly a sad song, but they have no background to it. That was a wartime song, mostly for those at home. It was never played on military radio because it wasn’t good for soldiers’ morale. It brings me back to an entirely different time.
Trees and Decorations. I have never had – nor wanted – a Christmas tree in my home. The only vaguely holiday decorations are the cards I receive, which I do display for a while. Cards aren’t about Christmas here, they’re about friendship.
Memorable Christmases. There are two unusual occasions that just happened to be on December 25. In 1971, my cousin D got married. It was somewhat unexpected; her fiancé’s father was ill, and the two of them managed to get enough time off at Christmas so that they could travel from California while he would still be there to see it. Next year it will be thirty-five years; marrying in haste does not necessarily mean you’ll repent at leisure.
The other memorable day was the one I spent at my sister’s while U.D. did her best to burn the Cheesebox down. I wrote about that, but it’s hardly a Christmas story.
Mistletoe? It’s a strange question. You’d expect high school girls to be hanging mistletoe all over, but we didn’t. “Nice girls don’t advertise.” But years later…
When I worked for Red Cross Blood Services, we held holiday blood drives each Christmas because there is often more need (bad auto accidents, for example) and because we could catch people in a giving mood. The mood was festive, Santa Claus helped usher people through the process, and there were cookies instead of doughnuts.
While a blood drive is essentially run by professional nurses and techs with volunteer assistance, it was necessary that some local administrative staff be present. It made sense for me to be there, since I didn’t have to be home preparing Christmas for my family. And one of those days, Santa came up behind me and kissed me on the cheek. He then pointed out that I was standing under the mistletoe. Like I had time to notice.
Whoopee! We had such a young Santa that year, I was old enough to be his mother. I told you, I’m a Christmas klutz.
Enjoy your preparations, and have a great holiday – whichever one you celebrate.
