Memories of Christmas
Christmast traditions
Star-Bulletin staff
feted in contestWE received more than 120 entries from folks writing about their Christmas traditions, ranging from deeply felt essays to photocopies of Christmas-card newsletters. Many were from schoolchildren, for whom Christmas traditions date from the '90s. One child bemoaned moving from a house to an apartment, because there was no room for a Christmas tree. "Now we'll have to put the presents under the coffee table instead of under the tree," he said. Christmas brings out emotions, mostly positive, sometimes not. "My mother always seems to be in the foulest of moods on Christmas Day, with few exceptions," another child reported. "I'm not sure why this is so. Maybe, fatefully, she begins to PMS around the holidays every year." Well, that's a tradition of sorts, isn't it?
Curiously, maybe half the entries dealt specifically with the trauma of discovering the truth about Santa. Although this wasn't the theme asked for, it was the button that many people pushed when asked about Christmas. "Soon my sister got the news to me. I yelled only one thing, 'Noooooooooo!' " noted one writer. "The dream was somewhat crushed; I wasn't that devastated, though ... as a small footnote, because of this incident, the Bunny Rabbit of Easter and the Leprechaun of Saint Patrick's day are also gone."
We also received a bibliography for a term paper about Joseph Stalin, so go figure. Another jolly old guy in red, we guess.
The stories printed here are our favorites.
Our Outside Christmas Tree
By Palani LukeTutu's house was so nice. We loved to go visit her and Granpa. Dad had the kind of jalopy that had a rumble seat and us kids could pile in the back there. It was fun to stick our faces out the side and let the wind blow our hair. Sometimes when the car was going fast it got hard to breathe, but fun. Tutu lived on the other side of the island so we had to ride a long time to get there. In those days it was before the tunnels went through the mountain and it was kind of scary to be riding down the winding road right next to the cliffs and look down. Sometimes it would rain so we'd have to put a raincoat over us and duck down to keep dry. On clear days we could see all the way to the beaches and the towns way down, but little by little we wound our way down to the level land again and soon we would reach Tutu's.
We could hardly wait for the car to stop before us kids would all jump out. First, we would give Tutu and Granpa our hugs. Then, when Mom and Dad were saying hi, us kids would all race to go see the dog who was barking like mad. There also were chickens and sometimes ducks.
The house was small and kind of old. They'd been living there for a long time. It was kind of cute, like maybe a fairy tale kind of cottage, real cozy and full of interesting things. They had pictures hanging on all the walls and sitting on top of all the furniture. Some were when Tutu and Granpa were young, when they got married, when Mom was a small girl, when Mom and Dad got married, and some of our baby pictures, too. Tutu liked to collect shells and she had some really nice kinds. Granpa had lots of pipes and beer mugs.
As nice as the house was, what we really liked was to be outside. The house was kind of dark because the yard was so full of plants that blocked out the sun. All different kinds -- hibiscus, ginger, orchids, anthuriums, a big mango tree and plumerias. It was like a forest to us and we kids loved to play hide in between all the big bushes. Granpa hung a rope so we could swing from the trees and we liked to pretend we were Tarzan, like in the movies.
We always loved to visit but Christmastime was the best of all. Mom would always pack some food she cooked, and with us, the presents and the food, the car really got loaded up. We could never wait to get going and climbed in the rumble seat hours before Mom and Dad were ready to go. Finally Dad would start the car and we'd be off. We waved to everybody and everybody waved back and we felt just like Santa in his sleigh, going to drop off our presents at Tutu's.
Even before we piled out of the car once we got there we could smell the stuff Tutu was cooking for dinner. Tons of food. Tutu was the greatest cook. A turkey was still in the oven but the table and all the counters were already laid out with all the trimmings, waiting for us. Mom could hardly find space for her stuff and even if she didn't bring anything she cooked, we'd all still be full just with what Tutu had cooked.
We always put up our own Christmas tree at home but nothing too fancy because we knew the fun would begin when we got to Tutu's, and we were never disappointed. On their porch, even before we got inside, we could smell the tree and when we opened the door we were greeted by a blast of pine smell from the tree that nearly filled the living room. Of course we kids would dive under, never mind the pretty lights and all the ornaments, to try and find the packages marked for us.
One year -- I forget exactly when but we were still small kids yet -- the car was extra full, especially behind in the rumble seat because that's where we put the flowerpot with the Christmas tree we were going to give Tutu and Granpa to plant in their yard. We had to sit way over on one side so the tree could fit, but we made it over the mountain and down the curvy road to Tutu's. You can imagine what a surprise it was for Tutu and Granpa. Their eyes opened so big I wish we had a picture of it.
The yard at that time wasn't so crowded yet so we found a space and planted it in a hole Granpa dug up with his shovel. The tree wasn't as tall as Jr. yet, but every time we were there we'd water it and pretty soon it was taller than me, then tall as Mom, and then taller than any us. After awhile it was almost taller than the house and Dad had to climb up the ladder to put the star on the top after we decorated it. Sometimes, when it wasn't raining, we even took all our presents to put out there under our outside Christmas tree. It was the prettiest tree on the whole street, and the whole world, we thought.
We were growing big too, along with the outside Christmas tree and by the time we were grown up, the tree was so big it was hard to walk by that side of the yard and on stormy nights the branches would bang the house. Finally, after a big talk one year, after we'd opened up all our presents, we sadly agreed that the tree would have to go. But where? That was the big question. We sure didn't want to chop it down.
By that time Granpa was pretty old and Tutu had a hard time caring for him by herself. Mom tried to help but she had her job. We tried to help so Granpa could stay at home. But the time came when we had to get help and found a rest home where he could go. We visited him as often as we could but it made us sad to leave him there. For awhile we thought of asking if we could plant our tree there where Granpa was, but they weren't too happy with that idea. Their yard wasn't that big either, so we had to think of something else.
One day when we were visiting Granpa in his room was saw that across the street there was a curve in the road, and Jr. had the idea that it wouldn't be in anybody's way if we planted the tree out there. It would be on a kind of slope, and there were other trees there too, but not too crowded. We dug up our dear tree and with the help of some of Jr.'s friends one night we were able to plant our tree up the slope a bit, away from the road. It was kind of big by that time, about 15 feet high maybe, but Jr. and his friends put it in a pickup and hauled it there.
They all took turns digging the deep hole and planted the tree. It took some time but when it was in, I went and poured the water we'd hauled from the yard. It was kind of sad, like leaving a friend behind, but we could think that Granpa could look out his window and watch the tree growing every day.
At Christmastime we rigged up lights so we could have a get-together with our outside Christmas tree, and for as long as Granpa could walk we'd take him carefully across the street and we'd have a party there, with Tutu's and Mom's ono food and everyone opening their presents after.
It was so neat because our tree began to attract some attention and before we knew it, other people would begin to join in. Pretty soon it got to be an annual kind of event and all of us got to know each other, and the kids and everybody would bring some Christmas potluck, with presents and everything. What was really neat is that the others began to rig up the other trees with batteries and it got to be really pretty, all lit up like that. Maybe you saw us on TV or noticed us when you drove by the curve in the road on the way to the tunnel?
I miss our kid days, going to Tutu's and Granpa's, having our own outside Christmas tree, but maybe it's nicer this way, sharing our holidays and outside Christmas tree with all our new Christmas ohana friends and families.
My Chanukah-Christmas
By Luke EvslinEVERY year we celebrate Chanukah. On the first night of Chanukah, we will light candles all over our house. Then we will light the menorah -- ours is shaped like a golden tree. (I think it is kind of ugly.) We used to use a nice old menorah that was passed down to my mother from my grandparents, but it wobbles and we are afraid of it falling over. On the first night we eat potato latkes and play dreidl. We open all of the presents one by one. My grandpa always gives me money for college and my grandma will get me anything I want. My other grandma will get me books that are hard for me to read like "Grapes of Wrath." My parents will get me one big present and a few little ones. I remember one Chanukah when my mom placed a candle underneath a shelf full of books. I remember going to look at a book and seeing the shelf burned black and ready to catch on fire. I told my mom to hurry and take the candle off before the house caught on fire. She blew the candle out and splashed water on the burned spot to cool it down. I saved our house.
If my brother and sister can't come from college in time for Chanukah, we celebrate both Christmas and Chanukah, but we open presents only on Christmas. We get a big Douglas fir and put it in our living room. Usually around Dec. 20 to the 24 we decorate the tree. My brother is too cool to decorate and he and my sister are usually out somewhere. Me and my mom will decorate the tree and my dad will put the big star of David up.
We hang our stockings on the banister. My stocking is red and white; it has my name in gold on the top. When we take out the stocking I get really excited for some reason.
On Christmas Eve we play Christmas songs and my mom will dance with me while my brother reads a magazine. At night my mom and I will read "The Night Before Christmas" and I will fall asleep with her reading.
On Christmas morning I will wake up around 5:30 and wake up my parents. They will say five more minutes. Five more minutes later I will wake them up.
We all go downstairs into the TV room and my parents will bring in the stockings. We have to watch each other open the stockings, then finally when we go into the living room, I pass out presents one by one. We all have to watch one person open a present, then someone else and so on. I like to open presents last so that no one is watching and if I don't like a present no one will notice. After opening presents we will have a big breakfast and go to the beach or up to Kokee.
That is how I celebrate my holiday season. If someone asked which I like better, Chanukah or Christmas, I would say Chanukah because it is at night and everything seems a little more peaceful.
Santa in Our House
By Andy HeadAt my house, Santa finds out what I want for Christmas when I call my Dad. (Dad and Mom are divorced. They live in two different states.) I tell him what I want for Christmas or I give Mom the Christmas wish list, and she tells me when she has mailed it. Mom and Dad also discuss the items on my list by phone, but I'm not allowed to listen in. When Santa leaves the gifts, he leaves them in the stockings and under the tree usually. Last year he left a ping-pong table in our garage, and new bikes at our friends' house.
We spend the even-numbered year Christmases with Mom (1992, 1994, 1996) on Kauai and the odd-numbered year Christmases with Dad (1991, 1993, 1995 and 1997) in Los Gatos, Calif.
When we are with Mom, we leave cookies and sodas for Santa. When we are at Dad's we leave out popcorn and a cold beer.
Sean (my brother) and I don't believe in Santa Claus anymore, but we play along. Merry Christmas.
