The Christmas magic back in my olden days started with the Christmas tree. Even though the new fancy metallic trees with a rotating colored light below it was the newest thing in Christmas trees, ours was always fresh. My Dad usually bought the tree from a tree lot that was run by our church. It was often the saddest looking tree on the lot. Dad would bring home the tree, along with many loose tree boughs and proceed to try to make the tree look presentable by drilling holes in the trunk and wiring the loose boughs into the holes to fill out the tree. It was quite a process. Dad would also cut several inches off the bottom of the tree and stand it in a bucket of water over night to have it soak up water. We didn't have a tree stand with a water receptacle...I don't even know if there was such a thing back then. The next evening, my father nailed two pieces of wood in a cross shape to the bottom of the trunk so that the tree would stand up.
The tree was then brought into the living room and put in the corner between the fireplace and the picture window. Next the lights were placed on the tree. The metallic, silver garland was next...draped just so all around the tree. The garland was followed by the ornaments. Finally, thin, silver strands of icicles were hung. Placing the icicles was a long process because we had to hang them individually, strand by strand, so that the entire tree was covered in a sheet of icicles. The task was well worth it because the tree would shimmer, even in the daylight.
On Christmas Eve, we always had a nice dinner with turkey and all the trimmings. It was Thanksgiving all over again. My mother had been baking for days making treats that only showed up around the holidays. We often had my mother's cousins and their families over for Christmas Eve. After dinner, we gathered in the living room to visit and sing Christmas carols. The only light in the room would be the lights from the tree, the light from the fire in the fireplace and the Christmas candles that my mother had placed around the room. It was truly magic.
For me, singing Christmas carols was one of the best parts of Christmas. Everything was in four part harmony and we sang all the verses. We sang acapella until my sister and I were proficient enough on the piano to accompany. I got very good at playing the carols and singing in harmony at the same time. Sometimes, we would go caroling in the neighborhood as well or get in the car and drive to ward members home to carol.
Like most children, I was reluctant to go to bed on Christmas Eve. But with the admonition that Santa wouldn't come until I was in bed and asleep, I was usually happy to go to bed. But the Christmas magic continued for me as I lay in bed listening for the bells on Santa's sleigh. On more than one occasion, I was absolutely certain that I heard them.
I remember the metallic trees with the rotating lights, but I also remember pastel trees. I can't remember if they were heavily flocked with pastel "snow", or if they were a pastel plastic. I just remember really, really wanting a pink or lavendar tree. (Maybe this was a phenomenon in snowless areas.) Like your dad, mine always opted for a real tree.
ReplyDeleteWe were not allowed to have icicles in our house as we were all throwers and clumpers, which my mother could not tolerate, but we always had bubble lights. (A round bulb topped with a cylinder of bubbling liquid.) Dad did not feel a tree was properly decorated without bubble lights. I thought they were the ugliest ornament ever conceived by man, but now that Dad is gone, I'd gladly hang them on my tree.
The family that lived next door to us had bubble lights on their tree. I was fascinated with them.
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