Memories of Treasured Traditions
Mistletoe by Clement BB.
For reasons that are not clear to me, Christmas 2023 brought back so many memories of Christmases from my very distant childhood. Those times were tough for rural families that spent 365 days holding all things together with spit and glue. Most of our mothers saved up any extra pennies from their jobs as domestics to always make this holiday so magical. And our dads pasted together two to three jobs to make sure there was food on the table, heat, and electricity, the basics. Somehow, however, there seemed to be no lack or limitations in our minds, especially at Christmas.
Just before this last Christmas, I began to envision our socks hung by the chimney with care. We tried to find our longest, clean, and not overworn socks; certainly, none with holes in the toe. The longer the sock, the more fruit, peppermints, and nuts it would hold. At least one doorway had a stem of live mistletoe nailed to its frame, usually hanging sideways, placed above the entry hurriedly by my brother. My brother and cousins would trudge through the usually snow-covered woods in search of a rich maple, oak, or apple tree that bore this beautiful green parasite, covered in big white berries that looked like pearls. My brother was particularly good at finding large chunks of this plant that he would cut into smaller pieces to cover as many doorways as possible. Then he’d lure girls under this decorative cover to steal a quick kiss. That was part of the magic, and many thought it brought good luck. My mother would bring out her cans of fruitcake that she had been seeping in rum for a couple of months to give it its rich, eye-closing flavor. To this day, no one’s fruitcake comes close to that of my mother. My son, however, has made it my special gift to treat me every year to a really tasty un-rummed Claxton, Georgia fruitcake. I am glad that despite the extra kick that mom soaked into her creations, fruitcake remains part of my holiday tradition.
From Thanksgiving to the countdown to the new year, a big part of the magic that has always been a part of my holiday is Christmas music. I continue to play my collection of music treasures all day, sweetened by the scent of Christmas candles, and if I’m really feeling it, the wonderful smell of oatmeal raisin cookies in my oven. That is not always guaranteed, but when it happens it is truly a great day for all within oven reach.
Perhaps the oppressiveness of COVID made me appreciate the close-up and personal joy that comes with doing small things to make others happy. Or maybe it’s the wonder of carrying on family traditions for not just decades but for generations. My dad used to go from house to house on our street, making sure he was the first foot to cross the threshold of a household that had no father in the home. I’ve read that this grew from a Scottish tradition which said that good luck comes in the form of a tall, dark-haired man being the “first-footer.” This is not a tradition that we’ve continued, but perhaps I need to rethink this and begin every year to come with an invitation to a tall, dark, and handsome man to jump-start my joy for the new year. Hmmmm…
So many have forgotten the magic of recreating those things in our family lives that were created as treasures to be passed on faithfully to those who come behind us. I may not do all that my mother, aunts, and grandmother did, but I try to stress the importance of continuing at least a few traditions that bring memories of those who planted so many seeds of love and caring. It may seem old-fashioned, but we should receive the joy in hanging those stockings with care, cooking the traditional family dessert, hanging some mistletoe (even if purchased from Amazon), playing some wonderful, soothing music, all year long, and becoming a participant in passing on the love.
“Life is made up of small moments that make us believe in magic.”
