We asked our readers to write about their Christmases past. Here is a selection of what we received. More will appear over the next two week in the Islander section.
A real doll under the tree
Christmas 1945 was memorable for so many reasons. The Second World War was over. I had only seen pictures of my three uncles, all of whom had gone off to war before I was born.
The anxious looks on the faces of my grandparents as they listened to news from the battlefront were gone. Grandma turned her attention to making special treats for Christmas, now that food rationing was over and ingredients were more available.
During the war, dolls were hard to come by and my dolls were the home-made rag doll variety. I longed for a “real” doll.
That Christmas morning was special. My three uncles were home. Everyone was filled with Christmas cheer.
And under the tree was a “real” doll, with eyes that opened and closed.
Shirley McBride
Cordova Bay
My only German Christmas memory
I was born in the 1950s in Germany to a Canadian father, an RCAF fighter pilot, and a German mother.
A local Christmas tradition was for Nikolaus (St. Nick) to come to every door and deliver a little gift to all the good children. Of course the flip side of this wonderful gesture, according to my mom, was that Schwarz Peter (Black Peter) might also appear and toss the naughty children into his sack and carry them into the deep, dark wood.
When the knock came at our door, I was terrified that I might not have been good enough and suffer the consequences.
As Nikolaus entered, I hid behind my dad and while he visited my parents offered a little tipple to fend off the cold December night.
When he finally left, I came out from my hiding spot and discovered a tiny porcelain doll tucked in a wee wicker bassinet. I was quite relieved and overjoyed at this sweet gift.
As we moved to Canada the following year, it would be my only memory of Christmas in Germany, but one I will never forget.
Eve Millington
Victoria
He made it home for Christmas
Fresh out of high school in the fall of 1967, work was hard to find in Vancouver so I took a job with the Cassiar Asbestos Corporation on B.C.’s northern border.
After a few months I began to have misgivings about working around asbestos and wanted to find another job. It was a brutally cold winter and flights to Vancouver were booked by those lucky enough to get away.
I resigned myself to missing Christmas with my mom, younger brother and sister for the first time. A Christmas miracle last-minute cancellation opened a seat for me and I landed in Vancouver at 3 a.m. Christmas Day.
I caught a cab home and went through the basement window into my bedroom. Waking Christmas morning to the sounds of footsteps and excitement upstairs, I quietly went up, opened the door and stepped into our living room.
The shock on my mother’s face turned to tears as she exclaimed, “He’s come home for Christmas!”
Hugs and tears all around. I had no Christmas presents but my Christmas presence made the Yule of 1967 unforgettable.
Ted Roberts
Saseenos
A large ball of snow, a ring of candles
When I was quite small and both parents were alive, I remember an enormous-seeming Christmas tree, a fir, resplendent with lit white candles, as was our family tradition. My mother would play the piano and we would all sing carols. Being Swiss and German, we celebrated on Christmas Eve.
As we grew older we continued to have candles on our tree, but that first one was the most magnificent one I can recall.
In the late 1990s, I lived alone in a draughty motorhome about a mile from the lovely forest farm where I kept my herd of registered Saanen dairy goats for 22 years. Owing to the elevation, the narrow, steep roads were often hazardous in the colder winters due to snow and ice, and my ancient pickup truck had only two-wheel drive; as a result, I often walked back and forth to the farm to do the winter chores while the truck languished in a snowbank.
The goats, of course, were always delighted when storms dropped delicious fir boughs onto the snow in their pasture. Kissing the velvety mug of an affectionate, fir-scented goat is a special experience.
I had permission from the kind owners to have a weekly shower at the farm. I remember one Christmas Eve when I was cold and wet from hours of work, and I looked forward to my weekly shower. Alas, somebody had just used it, and there was no hot water. Now clean but shivering from the cold, I walked back to the motorhome in the night. I confess in my loneliness I wept.
There was nothing to look forward to but a dinner of dreary macaroni. I was feeling quite sorry for myself. And then, in a forest clearing, I saw an amazing sight: a large ball of snow, about four feet in height, with a ring of white candles atop it, all lit.
I don’t remember how long I stood and gazed at the beautiful sight; but then I went on my way with joy in my heart.
Now, of course, all of that is gone; I am bereft and homeless. But this was a Christmas I will never forget. I will carry its beauty with me to the grave.
Willi Boepple
Victoria
Giving to a family with a newborn
It was a famiy tradition that went on as long as I was living at home as a child.
All year we would collect baby items – diapers, nighties, bottles booties and everything a new baby could possibly need.
My father would then find out from Social Services a family that was having a baby in December. He would also get information on other children and their ages.
We would then get gifts for them. We would also include in the huge basket a turkey and all the trimmings.
On Christmas Eve we drove to the house, rang the bell and placed the basket on the front porch. We ran back to the car and secretly waited to see the surprise when the owners came to the door.
A wonderful evening and tradition that I remember to this day.
Syl. Hopwood
Victoria
A special gift in the pandemic year
My husband and I live on Vancouver Island, and sadly cannot see our four married children and our 10 grandchildren, most living out of Canada.
So I came up with this gift idea for our children (and of course, a copy for us), which I hope will be special. It might be something other people would do.
I contacted all the children, ages two to 12, and asked them what they liked best about Christmas, what special food did they like best at Christmas, and I asked each one to colour or paint me a Christmas picture.
These were all emailed to me and along with a photo of each child, I made a photo book with Christmas designs. I added in recipes for the foods they said they liked as well as some old family favourites and the lyrics to some Christmas music.
At the end I said we are all apart this year due to COVID-19, but we are always together in thoughts and love.
I hope they all like this little gift!
Susan Marshall
Nanoose Bay
