A Child's Christmas in Germany

Hiking the Westwood Ridges this morning - thoughts turned to Christmas Eves a long time ago.

If I had to use only one word to describe Christmas when I was a young child, it would have to be "magic."

In the late 1940s in Germany Christmas was not the highly commercialized affair it is now. Even if we had wanted to shop 'til we dropped, we couldn't have - no one had anything - certainly not money. And yet, I recall those Christmases as the best of my life.

To this day I have no idea how my parents managed to make it so special for my brothers and I. My grandmother and mother must have hoarded food stamps for months to be able to buy the flour and butter that went into Christmas cookies and Stollen. And then they must have spent hours of secret time while we were sleeping making amazing toys - a doll's house, wooden cars and trucks - and so on.

Excitement built for weeks as the apartment began to take on the delicious aromas of cookies baking. And then on the morning and afternoon of the 24th we were banished from the living room. We heard noises and bangings and rustlings and all sorts of intriguing sounds coming from the forbidden room. And then, it grew dark and, at long last, we heard the strains of my grandfather's violin playing the children's Christmas carol, "Ihr Kinderlein Kommet." (Come Children.)

Then we gently pushed open the door and gaped at the transformation. There stood a huge fir tree lit with candles and hung with shiny decorations! Around the tree was an array of gifts and on little tables were plates for everyone - plates of cookies and nuts and fruit. All of it had appeared as if by magic. And not once did we fall all over these gifts shrieking - oh no - we were too much in awe. We approached the room with great reverence and one by one recited a Christmas verse we had memorized. Then, with much applause from the adults we approached our glorious toys and played with them in rapt amazement for the rest of the evening - pausing only occasionally to taste some great delicacy on our "Bunte Teller" - now there's an evening I'd like to revisit on a time machine.

I hope everyone can feel one small piece of magic tonight.