Christmas: A Time for Celebration

Christmas is a special time of the year when we bring in a tree from outdoors and in lighting it bring joy to the season at a time when it is dark by 4 p.m. In grammar school, the Christmas season would begin with the Advent Calendar. I do not recall how the calendar was constructed and I have since seen many variations but it is a way to count down the 25 days leading up to the Big Day.

"Patti" in 1955 with tea set, Jill the doll, and a Chimpanzee

Our house was always bustling with activity and guests in December. My godfather would stop by with his daughters to bring me a gift, often a "society" doll that wasn't meant to be played with. My aunts and their families frequently visited. The brunt of the work in preparing a holiday for six family members fell on my mother. She would be busy making fruitcake, Stollen, and Christmas cookies. Somehow, she also knew that Santa preferred Coconut Layer Cake with jelly or jam between the layers, frosted with white icing.

We always had a turkey on the holiday and loads of pies: Custard, Mincemeat, Apple, Pumpkin, and Chocolate Cream Pie. You can see that Mother was busy in the kitchen, in addition to all the holiday shopping she did for our family and extended relatives.

Santa cross-stitch that I made years ago

My oldest brother "Jack" listened for the hooves of Santa's reindeer on the roof and would lay bug-eyed until that happened. Then he would wake up his younger brother who shared the same bedroom and together they would go downstairs to see what Santa had left. Somehow, they never managed to catch "Santa" leaving the presents under the tree!

Our tree was a "real" one. I am not even sure if artificial trees were manufactured at that time (1950s). We would load it down with garlands and tinsel that looked like icicles and lots of shiny ornaments and old tin ones that my mother had had for ages. Under the tree would be a ceramic manger scene and on the fireplace our stockings were hung.

Santa ceramic Christmas card holder made by me in 1973

All sorts of small items would appear in our stockings. I always enjoyed finding a new finger puzzle, a piece of jewelry, candy bars and candy canes, chewing gum, and an orange in the toe of the stocking. Santa was very imaginative but also practical. He left a new toothbrush every year.

Growing up, I had no idea of how other people celebrated the holiday or whether or not they celebrated at all. It has been fascinating to learn how the day is celebrated in other countries. Rick Steeve's European videos give a good idea of some of the festivities, especially in Austria.  When I lived in Spain, I learned that most people there do not celebrate Christmas with gifts. They wait until January 6, the Epiphany or Feast of the Three Kings, to exchange presents. In 1972, I celebrated Christmas by traveling around Granada by myself, a college student on winter break.

However you celebrate the holidays, I hope they are happy days for you. Music certainly adds to the merriment as do your own special traditions.

Origin of "The Weaver" poem

I recently received a Sympathy card that has lines that have been rearranged and is presented as a poem called "The Plan of the Master Weaver." In copying the lines of the original poem, the name of the author has been lost and even a Google search could not come up with his name. I have a book that he wrote. Here is the original poem he wrote.

"The Weaver”: A Poem

A contemporary of Ellen Emeline Hardy Webster (1867-1950) - about whom I wrote a biography - was Rev. Grant Colfax Tuller (1869-1950), a minister in New Jersey. He was born two years after Mrs. Webster and died the same year. Like her, he was religious and the following poem is written from that point of view.

The Weaver

My life is but a weaving

Between the Lord and me

I may not choose the colors;

He knows what they should be;

For He can view the pattern

Upon the upper side,

While I can see it only,

on this, the underside.

Sometimes He weaveth sorrow

Which seems strange to me;

But I will trust His judgment

And work on faithfully

'Tis He who fills the shuttle;

He knows just what is best;

So I shall weave in earnest

And leave Him the rest.

Not till the loom is silent

And the shuttles cease to fly,

Shall God unroll the canvas,

And explain the reasons why

the dark threads are as needful,

In the weaver's skillful hand,

As the threads of gold and silver

In the pattern He has planned.

From the look of the images seen online, there have been a number of Sympathy cards produced that feature lines from this poem. Just goes to show that what is old is new again!

Patricia Cummings