The Christmas season brings with it an abundance of memories. From the excitement and anticipation that we felt as children to the joy of watching our own children and grandchildren at Christmas. But along with the happy memories, there are also those that are tinged with sadness and longing for those no longer with us. Here, Ann Deveau shares with us the pain of losing her beloved brother, finding a way to honour his memory and working her way back to a place of comfort and joy.
A tree filled with memories!
My brother absolutely loved Christmas.
Bob taught his little boys that it was the birthday of Jesus and always put up a nativity scene before he bought and decorated their Christmas tree. He chose gifts thoughtfully for family and friends, loved to munch on "chicken bones" candy while the turkey was roasting, and belted out off-key Christmas songs such as "Little Drummer Boy."
He died of cancer at age 45.
The first Christmas he was gone, I wondered how I would get through such an emotional time while grieving. He was my only sibling, and I missed him terribly.
A wise friend suggested that I do something special to honour Bob's memory, so I made a charitable donation of library books in his name. Nice but not enough.
Then an idea struck me. I would create a Bob tree!
I bought a two-foot artificial tree, some white lights, and started gathering ornaments meaningful to his life. For example, I hung tiny photos of his boys on the tree, a crocheted lighthouse because we're from Nova Scotia, a Boston Red Sox ornament because it was his favourite team, glittery red balls because he loved that colour, a miniature manger scene, a little drummer boy, a book because he was a voracious reader, a soccer ball ornament because he played and coached. Well, you get the idea!
That first Christmas without Bob, I sobbed as I placed each item on the little tree. The tears flowed annually for several years. I kept adding more Bob-specific ornaments. It became my ritual every December, and it brought me great comfort.
It still does. But now, after 22 years, I smile more than I cry as I trim the Bob tree.
- by Ann Deveau
Read another Christmas reflection about Ann and her brother, PA-RUM-PUM-PUM-PUM, which was shared in 2020.
The Christmas Season is upon us and with it comes memories of Christmases past. We have once again asked members of the congregation to share some of their favourite Christmas memories with us so that we can share them with you. We hope you will enjoy a little glimpse into the memories shared here and perhaps be encouraged to share yours as well.
Christmas in the Deanery
Submitted by Ashley Walton Bird
"2021 was our first Christmas at the Deanery and the first Christmas together for John and me. We had a large Christmas party that year with our friends and family and it was one of my best Christmas memories to date. I can still hear the Christmas music and recall the delicious scent of the holiday desserts and appetizers. The best part was having everyone we love under one roof enjoying the togetherness of the Christmas Season."
Note: Ashley and John live in the former Deanery of the Cathedral, located between Christ Church Cathedral and Memorial Hall. They have been restoring the house, and you can see some photos of the interior below and on John's Instagram page, The Lost Loyalist.
A member of our congregation, Helen Liang, grew up in China, and she sent us a few photos of Christmas there.
She says:
Christmas is an important festival in China. Most of the photos are of outdoor decorations, with only one image of a floating Christmas tree in a mall. Christmas is also the busiest time for the church, with various Christmas decorations in the church and various praise performances on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. But Chinese people don't eat Turkey at Christmas. There is no specific Christmas dinner, sometimes we will book in advance to eat at a restaurant.
The Cathedral Communications Committee has invited members of the congregation to share their Christmas memories. Below is a story from Andreas Decken.
I grew up in Germany, near the border with the Netherlands. The Christmas season started on December 6th. In neighbouring Holland, the 6th is similar to Dec 25th in Canada, when gifts are exchanged. Where I grew up, kids put their polished winter boots in the hallway the night before, and Sankt Nikolas (Santa) would either leave chocolates or bare twigs from trees in the boots. You can guess who received bare twigs.
There were many outdoor Christmas markets. People sold handcrafted gifts, but there were, of course, many booths with food and the traditional “Glühwein”, spiced wine that is served hot.
Christmas was celebrated on the eve of Christmas, “Heiligabend”. On that day, children were not allowed in the living room so that they wouldn’t disturb the “Christkind” (Christ child), who was decorating the tree. The Christmas tree originates from western Germany, a tradition that goes back hundreds of years. Once it was dark outside, the Christmas tree was lit, originally with candles but later with electric lights. After re-citing Christmas poems and singing carols, I was allowed to open my gifts.
Later on Christmas Eve, we attended the Christmas service. After the service, we congregated in the market square. A large bonfire was burning, and the church trombone choir played carols late into the night.
When I got older, I was a member of the YMCA. In Germany, the YMCA is closely connected to the Protestant church, and we would have a birthday party for baby Jesus at Christmas. The young people in their teens and twenties attended this party on Christmas Eve.
Many other German traditions are quite different from here in Canada. Did you know that the German Santa lives in the clouds? Every time it snows, it is Frau Holle (his wife) shaking out the bedding. Sankt Nikolas comes on foot from the forest, and he is not dressed in red and white. He carries a large sack with the gifts for the Christkind to place under the tree.
Other German traditions include lighting the advent wreath which has four red candles; placing nutcrackers in the house; opening the advent calendar; doing lots of Christmas baking including Stollen, the German fruitcake; and of course, lighting the candles of the Christmas Pyramid. The Christmas Pyramid is a hand-carved nativity scene placed on a multi-tier carousel that spins due to propellers that are driven by the heat of the candles.
When I came to Canada, I realized that I knew quite a few of the popular Christmas carols, since they were translated from German into English. While it was composed in Austria, the most famous German language carol is likely “Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht” (Silent Night, Holy Night). Even today, I cannot resist singing it in German when it is sung as one of the hymns in our Cathedral Christmas services.
The Cathedral Communications Committee has invited members of the congregation to share their Christmas memories. Below, listen to a story from Rachel.
The Cathedral Communications Committee has invited members of the congregation to share their Christmas memories. Below, listen to a story from Claire.
The Cathedral Communications Committee has invited members of the congregation to share their Christmas memories. Below, read a story from Marilyn Lewell.
Apart from wonderful times with my family, my Christmas memories involve music. Having sung in choirs since an early age, including school, church and community choirs, I remember singing Handel’s MESSIAH for the first time at 12 years of age, and almost annually since.
A special year was when my husband and I lined up outside Kings College Cambridge to be in the congregation for the famous Christmas Eve Carol service. It was magical.
Perhaps the most moving memory involved volunteering for the nurses’ choir in our uniforms, as we sang carols while carrying candles and visiting each unit of the hospital where we worked. Needless to say, that is no longer a tradition in hospitals but it was very special to the patients and nurses alike.
The Cathedral Communications Committee has invited members of the congregation to share their Christmas memories. Below, read a story from Ann Deveau. Stay tuned for other stories as we enter the Christmas season!
I’ve always despised the ubiquitous Christmas song, Little Drummer Boy. Our class choir had to sing it umpteen-dozen times to prepare for the school’s Christmas concert, but I was one of the off-key singers expressly told NOT to sing aloud. It was torture to spend hours pretending to sing PA-RUM-PUM-PUM-PUM and the rest of it. My little brother knew how much the song annoyed me, so, naturally, he played the record or sang it as often as possible.
Fast forward many years. My brother made sure that his children knew how to bug me. The minute I would arrive at their home for Christmas festivities, he’d say: “Hit it, boys.” Two impish faces would light up as they loudly sang Little Drummer Boy and waited for my inevitable and exaggerated groans.
My brother died when his sons were aged 9 and 11. A Christmas or two later, I opened my gift from them. The nephews had carefully made a music CD for me, downloading 19 different versions (including the same one by Johnny Mathis twice!) of Little Drummer Boy. They giggled in anticipation of my usual reaction, but I dissolved in a puddle of tears, laughter and hugs.
The nephews are now 30 and 28, but I still play that homemade CD every December. I grit my teeth at the annoying tune, but I bask in the warm love of family that underpins the creation of the musical collection. PA-RUM-PUM-PUM-PUM………………
Christmas comes gradually to our house—gradually and somewhat gently. Of course, it wasn’t always like that. When I was a child, Christmas arrived suddenly! It came on Christmas morning when we got out of bed and after opening the living room door, found that the room had been magically transformed with a fully decorated tree.
Santa always left our stockings at the foot of our beds. I still recall waking up and wiggling my toes to see if the stocking was there—and the joy and wonderment of finding it and realizing who had put it there! When you moved it with your foot, it made a special sound that cannot be compared to anything else.
But it all happened on that one day—which made the whole experience that much more exciting! Mind you, there were still events that led up to Christmas. Advertising on radio and TV still encouraged us to get our shopping done early, and there was still the Santa Claus parade. More important than the parade was the opening of “Toyland.” Yes, my friends, I remember when there were no malls, the stores were on one or two streets downtown, and they did not keep a full selection of toys all year long. “Toyland” meant that Christmas was really coming!
But in spite of this limited hype, things didn’t start to get serious for me until the party on the last day of school. After school ended, I would get perhaps as much as two or three dollars from Mom to go downtown and buy something special for my grandmother. It was usually a nick-nack to go on her mantle. Dogs, cats and other cute animals were very popular with me and her other grandchildren. As a result, Nanny’s mantle resembled a menagerie. I am sure that many a saleslady was silently screaming at how much time it took me to choose just the right piece.
On Christmas Eve morning, my sister and I would take the bus to Nanny’s house to get a pair of her stockings. She wore those special “old lady” stockings that were perfect for hanging up. Nylons just didn’t seem to work! We would phone her in the morning, “Nanny, do you have any of your stockings you could let us borrow?” The answer was always “Yes” for her many grandchildren. I’m surprised that Christmas Day found her with any stockings left to wear.
The bus ride to her house was also special. For me, bus rides were always special. But this one, more so. Mom would give us bus fare—a shiny five cent piece, “Put this inside your mitten and don’t take it out until you get on the bus! Nanny will give you another one for the ride back.”
The 2019 Nativity Scene at Christ Church Cathedral
Now, we could have walked down the street and taken the West Loop bus that went down the hill, and we would have been at Nanny’s house in no time. But I always liked to take the bus going in the opposite direction. The cost was the same, but you got a much longer ride. You traveled along Water Street, where you could see the Christmas lights and the people hurrying into the stores. They were getting on the bus, loaded down with mysterious packages! People seemed to act differently because it was Christmas Eve. People smiled more, and we often heard those magical words, Merry Christmas.
Over the years our habits have changed. Christmas doesn’t arrive as suddenly as when I was a child. I couldn’t possibly do what my parents did on Christmas Eve. But we are still a family that decorates the tree just before Christmas—as opposed to just before Remembrance Day—and I am, purposely, one of the last on my street to decorate the outside of my house. But mid- November finds us at the tree farm picking out our tree and around the end of November, we start to see hints of Christmas. The ornate wall hanging suddenly shows up. Then, a bit later, the everyday mugs disappear, replaced by the Christmas mugs. By Advent Sunday, the ceramic Christmas tree will have appeared. And a bit later, my well-thumbed copy of Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol” calls out to me. But the tree in all its glorious and majestic splendor is still left until almost Christmas. On the other hand, our decorations stay up and the outside lights stay lit until Twelfth Night.
Bringing out the Christmas decorations is always special. Seeing that particular favourite ornament is like welcoming back an old friend. Seeing the boys’ special ornaments always brings back memories of Christmases past. And even trying to figure out how strings of lights could possibly have twisted themselves that much while sitting for eleven months in a motionless box is more or less tolerable!
In spite of having celebrated many Christmases, we are still caught up in the rush of Christmas shopping and the dash to make sure that we have those last minute things, which always seem to get forgotten.
But even so, our Christmas seems to come gradually and gently. Perhaps that fits with how the baby Jesus arrived. May your Christmas be joyous and gentle.
