The Rural Voice, 2000-12, Page 32( A
Christmas Traditions
When times get tough, traditions get us through
BB Carol Riemer
t's late fall, and the sky looks dark and
J
sombre. An icy wind whips through the
trees, sending a sudden shiver down my
back. No sign of our resident chipmunks, who
by now, have wisely retired to more
comfortable quarters beneath the shed. The
fields lie plowed and empty, the landscape
frozen in a stony silence. I shove my hands in
my pockets for warmth, and with the mail
tucked safely under my arm, I hurry back to
the house. It looks like it might snow, and my
thoughts have turned to Christmas.
Putting on a fresh pot of coffee, I sit down
at the kitchen table to sort through the usual
collection of bills and flyers. Near the bottom
of the pile, a letter catches my eye. It's from' a
distant cousin who, once a year, brings me up
to date on his travels to distant and exotic
places. Whisked away to the dusty Australian
outback, a Japanese teahouse or the craggy
heights of the Scottish highlands, I reply with
colourful tales of country life. It seems a fair
trade. Introducing my cousin to the finer points
of compost making, I go on to explain how to
cope with a transient skunk in the wood shed.
The fact that we have never visited one
another's home, and only occasionally spoke
on the phone, does little to discourage what has
come to be a long-standing Christmas tradition.
Tradition, my dog-eared dictionary tells me,
is "the handing down of tales, beliefs and
customs ... from generation to generation." On
a personal level, however, it might be more
aptly described in specific terms. At Christmas,
tradition is reflected in the soft glow of a
candlelight dinner, the sparkle of brass
ornaments that never lose their shine and the
welcoming twinkle of Christmas lights along a
dark country road. It warms the house with the
enticing aroma of gingerbread, and lingers in
the familiar strains of Christmas carols, amid
echoes of laughter and excitement on
Christmas Eve. Fragrant pine boughs, adorned
with bright red ribbons, and holiday wreaths,
studded with pine cones and dried herbs, help
to preserve the traditional holiday spirit.
It's tradition that keeps the family warm
each year, as we forge our way through the
freshly fallen snow, risking frostbite in search
of the perfect Christmas tree. It's Savoured in
Grandma's secret recipe for hot, mulled cider,
served with a traditional cinnamon stick and a
selective sprinkling of nutmeg. We still hang
our stockings by the fire, a tradition that was
started when the kids were small, and Santa
had not yet lost his secret identity.
Back then, whenever the turkey was
overcooked, the kids were sick or the tree had
lots all its needles, it was tradition that kept me
going. It was there when I tried to straighten
the star at the top of the tree, only to watch, as
it gracefully fell to the floor and smashed into a
thousand different pieces. It kept me company,
while I struggled to think of unique hiding
places for presents and then tried, sometimes in
vain, to remember where I put them.
Tradition tells us it's okay to be old-
fashioned, to indulge those conventions we
have lovingly nurtured over the years. It
willingly follows us into the school gym for
the annual Christmas concert. It stands close
beside us at the Santa Claus Parade, while we
wave and cheer as the floats go by. Tradition is
in that gentle tug on your hand when you take
the little ones for a picture with Santa. It lives
in Grandpa's stories of when he was a boy, and
in Grandma's holiday fruitcake with the
special almond icing.
It reminds us that Christmas is a time of
giving and sharing, a time when the
community draws closer together. It's still
there in the friendly wave from the school bus
driver, the welcome greeting of our mailman
and the knowing nod of the snow plough
operator, encouraging us to remember that,
even in this fast -paced world, there will always
be a time for tradition.0
28 THE RURAL VOICE