I love Christmas. Every twinkly light, every decorated tree, every ill-fitting Christmas jumper and every jingle bell; I love it all.
I am both lucky and grateful that I have lovely memories of childhood Christmases. The magic started on Christmas Eve, when Da would bring in the tree and then spend hours - glasses half off his noise - trying to get the fairy lights to work. Ma would be prepping the turkey and icing the cake, and we’d all wait until it got dark, when she would light the tall, red candle in the window.
Ma said that was to let anyone passing know that they could come in for shelter.
Before bed, we would find one of Da’s long socks to leave out for Santy and then we’d put out a few biscuits from the newly opened tin of USA (and a bottle of stout). After we put one decoration each on the tree, we went to bed
Waking up in the dark, early morning, I still remember the anticipation as I wiggled down the bed until I could feel the weight of the full stocking with my feet. Without turning on lights - and with lots of giggles - my sister and I would delve in. The bottom of the sock was always filled with an apple and an orange, while the long part of the sock was tubular with a rolled up coloring book. There was always plasticine, crayons, chocolate and a surprise. Ma always said that Santy filled the stockings and the big presents under the tree came from people we could thank.
Once we knew we could get up, we went out to the landing, which was now lit by a big, orange paper star on the hall light below; giving the landing, stairs and hall a magical, warm glow. We all lined up in the hall until Da opened the door to the sitting room; now lit by fairy lights on a fully decorated tree. The baby Jesus had been added to the crib and it was Christmas.
I don’t remember the specific presents under the tree each year, but I do remember getting my Crolly Doll. She was beautiful. I saw her when we visited Cleary’s to meet Santy, and when the sales assistant showed me how she cried when you bent her forward and she closed her eyes when you laid her down, I fell in love. That Christmas, she was under the tree - wearing a cloak over her dress that was made from the same material as one of my skirts. How Ma found the time to make clothes for my doll when she had 11 children, my grandfather, the Irish Countrywomen’s Association, Macra na Tuaithe and work on the farm, I’ll never know.
There were crackers with really bad jokes, paper hats and full plates
After Da milked the cows and we went to mass, we sat down to dinner. I’m thinking now of Ma making dinner for 14 people! There were crackers with really bad jokes, paper hats and full plates. Ma would serve everything up and I remember, at dessert, seeing her slip a sixpence into every dish of Christmas pudding and custard.
The rest of the day was spent playing with new toys, reading new books and watching a film on TV. Ma would be sitting in her chair where we could all hear the occasional rustle of an After Eights wrapper as she sneaked one at regular intervals.
The night ended with a toast - a tradition started by Grandad when his three children were living in different countries. At 9pm Irish time, all the family - wherever in the world they lived - raised a glass to each other and to the future.
This Christmas I will be in New York with my family, gathered together from all over. Santy will still only bring gifts that fit in (admittedly larger) stockings, with an apple and an orange at the bottom. There’ll be no star in the hall, sixpenny bits for the pudding or cows to milk, but there will be full plates, paper hats, lots of laughs and the rustle of After Eight wrappers. And at 9pm we’ll raise a glass to Ma, Da, John and all our family all over the world.
Read more
Margaret Leahy: as good for the head as it is for the backside
Margaret Leahy: bus 424 has been a game changer for my rural life
I love Christmas. Every twinkly light, every decorated tree, every ill-fitting Christmas jumper and every jingle bell; I love it all.
I am both lucky and grateful that I have lovely memories of childhood Christmases. The magic started on Christmas Eve, when Da would bring in the tree and then spend hours - glasses half off his noise - trying to get the fairy lights to work. Ma would be prepping the turkey and icing the cake, and we’d all wait until it got dark, when she would light the tall, red candle in the window.
Ma said that was to let anyone passing know that they could come in for shelter.
Before bed, we would find one of Da’s long socks to leave out for Santy and then we’d put out a few biscuits from the newly opened tin of USA (and a bottle of stout). After we put one decoration each on the tree, we went to bed
Waking up in the dark, early morning, I still remember the anticipation as I wiggled down the bed until I could feel the weight of the full stocking with my feet. Without turning on lights - and with lots of giggles - my sister and I would delve in. The bottom of the sock was always filled with an apple and an orange, while the long part of the sock was tubular with a rolled up coloring book. There was always plasticine, crayons, chocolate and a surprise. Ma always said that Santy filled the stockings and the big presents under the tree came from people we could thank.
Once we knew we could get up, we went out to the landing, which was now lit by a big, orange paper star on the hall light below; giving the landing, stairs and hall a magical, warm glow. We all lined up in the hall until Da opened the door to the sitting room; now lit by fairy lights on a fully decorated tree. The baby Jesus had been added to the crib and it was Christmas.
I don’t remember the specific presents under the tree each year, but I do remember getting my Crolly Doll. She was beautiful. I saw her when we visited Cleary’s to meet Santy, and when the sales assistant showed me how she cried when you bent her forward and she closed her eyes when you laid her down, I fell in love. That Christmas, she was under the tree - wearing a cloak over her dress that was made from the same material as one of my skirts. How Ma found the time to make clothes for my doll when she had 11 children, my grandfather, the Irish Countrywomen’s Association, Macra na Tuaithe and work on the farm, I’ll never know.
There were crackers with really bad jokes, paper hats and full plates
After Da milked the cows and we went to mass, we sat down to dinner. I’m thinking now of Ma making dinner for 14 people! There were crackers with really bad jokes, paper hats and full plates. Ma would serve everything up and I remember, at dessert, seeing her slip a sixpence into every dish of Christmas pudding and custard.
The rest of the day was spent playing with new toys, reading new books and watching a film on TV. Ma would be sitting in her chair where we could all hear the occasional rustle of an After Eights wrapper as she sneaked one at regular intervals.
The night ended with a toast - a tradition started by Grandad when his three children were living in different countries. At 9pm Irish time, all the family - wherever in the world they lived - raised a glass to each other and to the future.
This Christmas I will be in New York with my family, gathered together from all over. Santy will still only bring gifts that fit in (admittedly larger) stockings, with an apple and an orange at the bottom. There’ll be no star in the hall, sixpenny bits for the pudding or cows to milk, but there will be full plates, paper hats, lots of laughs and the rustle of After Eight wrappers. And at 9pm we’ll raise a glass to Ma, Da, John and all our family all over the world.
Read more
Margaret Leahy: as good for the head as it is for the backside
Margaret Leahy: bus 424 has been a game changer for my rural life
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