Family Christmas

Last weekend was my family Christmas and hubby and I, along with my brother and his wife, were in charge of the event. Our extended family is large with many siblings, spouses, children, grandchildren, and even some great grandchildren. The picture above seems to embody the wonderful history stored in my mind: of my Dad driving Maudie and giving sleigh rides to all and sundry, of beautiful decorations made from fresh greenery and red ribbons, of many special gifts to be opened Christmas morning.

All of those remembered things have changed somewhat but they have been replaced by new 'traditions' and I am pleased to feel the ongoing thrust of our family into the future through those new and exciting things. We have people of every colour in our group now and we are much richer for it. We have families of many different groupings which all seem to love to get together.

Even if I wasn't a churchgoer, I would still treasure Christmas as the one season where everyone is happy to reach out to family, friends and even to strangers. There is an expectancy in the air as we rush through the malls, looking for that last thing, and then, happy to find it, rushing home to finish the wrapping. Today my thoughts are on what I need for the turkey dinner with all the trimmings which I am masterminding for Christmas Day, especially for my hubby. He loves the tradition and is happy to help with it all. I am lucky to have him in so many ways but especially for his delight in Christmas.

And so to all who happen upon this blog this day, Merry Christmas. May your day be joyful and softly meaningful as you celebrate your own traditions. Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle all the way...........

Crafty Christmas Cards

Here is the picture I used for my wonderful new crafty Christmas card this year. One day last week--and only one!--it snowed, and I raced out at noon to take a picture. The sun was shining but lots of the snow was still left. I loved the blue sky in the background.

From my digital camera's memory card inserted into my printer port, I transferred the picture to my computer, and Microsoft Publisher's card template simplified the process of putting it all together. First I printed the picture on page one of the card stock purchsed at Staples. Then I printed my personal message on the inside by running the stock through the printer again. I had to make sure I got the card stock in the printer correctly or I would have had my message upside down or on top of the picture--you get the idea.

Finally with Elmer's glue, a not-so-steady hand, and spoonfuls of clear sparkles, I glittered up the spruce and maple trees, the garage roof lines and the reindeer on the lawn. With sweeping lines of glue I outlined the driveway and dropped the glitter on top. Then I poured off what didn't stick, let the cards dry overnight and popped them in envelopes to mail.

Dear Santa

Today is the first snowfall of winter and I have started thinking about Christmas. In my mind I see pictures of Christmases long ago and Christmases more recent. I see the concerts in a one-room school house where we acted out the Christmas story for eager parents and grandparents while babies nestled among coats piled on desks, innocent in their drowsy napping; at home large, full Christmas trees, laden with lights and lovely balls of every colour, lovingly placed by small hands and crowned with a great star at the top; the shopping trips with my Dad to get Mom's presents, all bought in a spirit of generosity and love; Boxing Day parties with our house full of the smell of steaming wet mittens, of the sounds of noses sniffling, of the din of aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers, sisters, all laughing and talking, happy to sing and celebrate together; the tremor of excitement coursing through my body as I tried to get to sleep because tomorrow was Christmas and if I could just get to sleep, when I woke up you would have come.

More recently, I remember the brightness of Kevin's eyes as he took in the magically-lit tree of Christmas morning with all its wonderful world of joy spread around the room; of Beth's look of amazement and a little confusion as she opened one present after another amidst piles of discarded wrapping paper; of Ron's laughing voice as he looked at his children enjoying what he and I had created for them, shouting "Let's open another one!"; of a look shared between us, over and over at the palpable joy in our little home that morning. Oh, those were some magical moments in our lives and you, Santa, were so much a part of it.

Another aspect of Christmas has always been the way it brings people together in joy, putting aside petty differences to jointly celebrate the birth of a tiny baby two thousand years ago. People on the street can't wait to shout Merry Christmas while rushing to finish their last bit of shopping. Shoppers take time to drop a fiver into the Salvation Army Santa's pail, hoping that others will find peace and happiness in the season as well. Children wait in long lines for their chance to tell Santa their own hopes and dreams, some happily, others overwhelmed, but all feeling that something special is happening.

And so, this Christmas of 2006, when our children are grown, with homes of their own, when the patterns of a lifetime are changing yet again as we eagerly embrace the future, I hope, Santa, that you will continue to bring hope and joy to children of every age, that the world will take a page from your book and adopt a pattern of giving until the number of gifts bewilders the one receiving, that the wonderful freeing spirit of Christmas will write hope and happiness where once was despair, that peace and tranquillity will be given to those in darkness, and that we might all come together as one in our quest for hope and contentment for all the work. Please work on it, Santa, and we will, too.

A Super Suzuki Day

On Sunday hubby and I were invited to Guelph to see our niece's two children play in the Suzuki Christmas event at River Run Centre. Anxious to spend time with our niece's family (my brother Ross' daughter), we approached the concert as a cute preliminary and looked forward to starting our yearly Christmas celebration of concert events.

Upon arrival at the centre we quickly spotted Hugo who directed us to the seats the older two children were saving. We have not seen enough of these children to have them know us well, so this was a 'getting acquainted' visit for the first while. The two older ones, M. and I., showed us to our seats and we settled down to wait for the start while they jumped up and down, giggled and laughed happily, and just seemed to enjoy everything that was happening. Their father and mother came and sat near us and the concert began.

Various teachers of Suzuki trooped their various-sized charges on stage in a very orderly and disciplined fashion. The teachers played with their students and I was struck by the clarity of tone as the violins and cellos matched their teacher's tone. Suzuki is an interesting method of learning, to be sure. From older students who were quite comfortable performing for many audiences (as they told us), to the wee tiniest tykes with fake violin bows doing a rhythmic drill, the concert was well done. The children all knew their places and joyfully joined in at their times. Finally everyone was on stage, all one hundred and eighty of them, and they played Silent Night, a moving feast for ear and eye.

From the stage the children trooped to the large foyer where millions of cookies and plates of fresh fruit awaited and there most of them stopped, making it hard to get near the table to get a bite. We were not unhappy, though, as our waistlines don't need the sugar, but our willpower is often more like won't power! This way we weren't tempted to try for another bite.

Afterwards we went to our niece's lovely little corner house and had a wonderful time with the four children, all of whom took turns telling us little things and inviting us into their lives. E. hanging from the exercise bar in the doorway, couldn't believe that I was his great aunt, saying, "That can't be right!" as I explained how his grandfather and I were brother and sister just like him and his sisters. G. sat on my knee as we chatted after supper and I delighted in holding a little one--she is five. I. is sure of her own way in this world and watching her smile was delightful. She asked me to make her some earrings once she gets her ears pierced and I took that as an affirmation of my own self-made ones. But my biggest surprise came on leaving, when M. whispered to me that she had put something in my purse for me to open on the way home.

As we drove down the 401 we had lots to think about. Hubby fondly remembered E. taking him to see his bedroom where he sleeps on the top bunk. Up he climbed and asked hubby to climb up, too, which he did all the while hoping that the bed would hold him. I told hubby of the older two girls playing a duet on the piano and we marveled at how happy and unselfconscious these children are. Then we remembered the gift in my purse and I rumaged around to find a lovely little handmade card from M. She was thanking me for the necklaces which I had made for each of them, but her 'voice' was so joyful and true that the card was a treasure. That she had done this on her own made it all the more special. Thank you, M.

This was a joyful Sunday afternoon and evening for both of us. We look forward to our extended family Christmas where we will know these children much better and they will know us. Would that every Sunday could be filled with such family fun.

Berton House Writers' Retreat

Last night hubby and I received our first Christmas present of the season--a wonderful evening 'on the town' in Toronto at the 4th annual Berton House Writers' Retreat gala in the company of our son and a very good family friend.

We left here at 3 p.m., picked up our friend in Woodstock and then set out for Toronto, normally a one-and-a-half-hour trip. Luckily the four of us had lots to talk about and the extra hour plus on the high-traffic road went by easily--well, for those of us riding blissfully in the back seat!

The gala was held at a Chinese Restaurant on Spadina called the Bright Pearl and the food was excellent. Milling about before the dinner were all the Who's Who from the Canadian literary scene; my only regret is that I haven't been keeping up with all the new writers. Anyhow my friend travels in elevated circles and he introduced us to Vicky Gabereau, Janet Berton and Catherine McKinnon. Gabereau was disappointing as she barely said hello to me before she was on to her next thing. On the other hand, Janet Berton, from her wheelchair exuded charm and goodwill. She seemed truly genuine, glad to meet all those who had come to this event named for Pierre. When my friend asked if I would like to meet Catherine McKinnon, I immediately said yes as I remember her from years back--probably 25--when she and her sister (Patrician Ann McKinnon) and her then husband (Don Harron) were performing at a Cancer Society event I attended in Toronto. Imagine my surprise when we twisted through the crowd trying to find her and she turned to be the lady I had chatted with in the washroom. We were both surprised to see each other as my friend introduced us. She said, "I already met you in the washroom!" and we had a great laugh.

The silent auction and the live auction raised lots of money for Berton House and watching the antics of the auctioneer and Linda Lundstrom of designer coats fame run up the bids to the max was intriguing. Lundstrom was especially good at it, topping off her contribution when two bidders wanted the designer day with Linda Lundstrom and had the bid up to $3000. She took the mike and got the two bidders to each pay the money and, then and there, donated an extra day, thus increasing the income to $6000 for the charity. I guess she is as good a business woman as a designer.

I assume the clock ticked on, although I wasn't aware of it, so enthralled was I with the event. All too soon we were watching the final presentation, a videotape of Pierre Berton reciting "The Shooting of Dan McGrew." My mind flew back to my childhood in the one-room schoolhouse where I first discovered Robert Service's works. What a perfect cap to a lovely evening--Pierre Berton, that prolific Canadian giant, reciting Service's signature poem on the north. The ironies were abundant and I thought how wonderful to be able to see Berton performing so well, even though he has been gone for three years. Made me think of my Dad and his love of reciting the same type of poetry.

So Christmas has started well for us. This was a gift that will keep on giving as I ruminate on it for the next while. And who knows? Maybe one day someone I know will spend time at the Berton House writing up a storm.