Long Ago Christmas

My Australian childhood Christmasses started in the Spring, September. We began saving the gold and silver paper around chocolates; these were treasures to be used in making Christmas tree decorations. Then in early October Christmas continued with a small jar of water sitting on the kitchen windowsill.

“Children, you must save all your threepences now. Put them in this jar and make sure you don’t spill it.”

In those days, the 1940s, Australia was far from going metric and a threepence (thripp’nce} was a pure silver coin almost the size of an American dime, worth three pennies.

The Pud
Our mother was extra busy in the kitchen at this time. In late October, she made the Christmas cake and Christmas pudding, each full of dried fruit, nuts, eggs, a little flour and sugar, rum, and some spices The cake had a marzipan icing and would mainly be for visitors. The day she started the pudding, she announced it in the morning and again later.

“Les! Peter! Come and stir the pudding!” I was already there, having helped to chop the nuts and fruit and beat the eggs. When Chris was old enough, he was included too. We each gave it three stirs and made a wish. Nobody was allowed to say what they wished. She packed it into the pudding bowl, the lid firmly tied on with string, and steamed it for several hours in a tray of water in the oven. Then she put it on a high shelf in the kitchen cupboard to mature alongside the cake.

The Tree
In December, Dad made his announcement. “Time to get a tree, children! Anyone coming?” Of course we ran to go with him. We chose one at the tree farm and then it was time to use our saved-up pocket money on decoration materials: crepe paper and colored paper, cardboard, glue, and gold sprinkles. Then with our chocolate wrappers, paintboxes and scissors, Peter and I, and Chris later, made a profusion of streamers, stars, and original creations that pleased us hugely. A gold or silver ball or bell went on the treetop courtesy of Dad’s help.

Santa
Dad started promoting Santa Claus now. He explained that because of how hard Santa worked, going to so many countries and up and down so many chimneys, he needed some refreshment. So on Christmas Eve night, he had me or Mum cut the first slice of Christmas cake and put it on a nice plate with a glass of sherry on the mantelpiece over the living room fireplace. My brothers and I had another job too: get pillow cases from †he linen cupboard and tie them to the foot of our beds.

The Gifts
When the sunny big day dawned we woke to find them bulging with gifts and toys. We ripped them open in excitement and ran to our parents bedroom to show them what Santa had brought. They were just waking but on this day they didn’t mind our noise. In the living room, the sherry was gone, and just a few crumbs of the cake were left on the plate. Santa had indeed visited our house!

Santa’s gifts occupied us all morning but the gifts we had wrapped for each other and placed around the Christmas tree were out of bounds until after midday dinner.

The Feast
That meal made its presence felt all morning as the chicken (an annual treat) baked in the wood stove’s oven, surrounded by vegetables from our garden. I made the gravy and set the table. We had brightly colored “Christmas crackers”, one at each place setting and before starting to eat, we pulled them with another family member so they made a loud crack with smoke, like a cap gun. The contents fell out and we each put the paper hat on, read the little messages, and inspected the little toys that we children could use for games improvised later.

The highlight of Christmas dinner was the pud. Dad performed this ceremony, bringing it to the table held high with both hands, drenched in brandy and flaming high with fire. Brandy sauce was heated and ready to pour from a jug. Mum filled our bowls and as we ate we paid close attention. If we were lucky, a mouthful would include a threepence. This was extra pocket money to be spent in the afternoon when the icecream man came by with his horse and cart. I remember my Dad, sitting near me at the head of the table, quietly sliding his threepences towards mine and giving me a little wink.

He disappeared after dinner as Mum and I cleaned up. Excitement rose again now as it was time for Christmas tree presents.

More Gifts
“Ho, Ho, Ho!” came an extra deep male voice and Santa appeared in full regalia. “What have we got here? A big pile of presents! Now, I wonder where we should start?”

This was to provoke us into clamoring for this gift or that one, but Santa didn’t necessarily follow our directions.

“Let’s see. Look at this interesting present! Hmm. The card says, ‘Happy Christmas to Peter.’ Well, the first present goes to Peter. Here you are, lad. Merry Christmas!” We watched as Peter ripped open his gift and revealed maybe some Tonka toys or a new Meccano kit or a new station for his train set. If necessary, Mum would say,

“And who do you thank for this gift, Pete?”

Then hugging ensued and Santa went on to the next gift.

The Music
As we finished opening all the presents and the floor was knee-deep in wrapping paper, my excitement rose highest because now was coming the best part of the day. My attention went outdoors and as soon as I could, I ran into the back yard, and before long I could hear Once in Royal David’s City faintly in the distance, or Hark the Herald Angels Sing. I ran out on the street towards the sound and when I came to the Salvation Army Band, I joined them, marching along in the rear, full of joy and pride and singing the carols. I followed in the sweltering heat until the streets began to look unfamiliar. Then I stood and watched them out of sight and walked back home full of contentment.