Week 39 - Christmas memories
When I was young we celebrated Christmas twice. The first was the traditional Dutch Sinterklaas which we celebrated on the night of 5th December. Every year St Nicholas would reward good children, or punish unruly ones, assisted by Zwarte Piet (Black Peter). My Dad would play the piano, and we would sing the old Dutch Sinterklaas songs: Zie ginds komt de stoomboot uit Spanje weer aan…, (“Here comes the steamboat from Spain again…”), Hoor de wind waait door de bome… (“Listen to the wind rushing through the trees”) , Zie de maan schijnt door de bomen… (“See the moon shining through the trees…”), and the lovely short plea Sinterklaas Kapoentje (“St Nicholas I beg of you, drop something nice into my little shoe…”)
The evening was very exciting… My Dad would sneak out of the room without us noticing, and then there would be a rat-a-tat-tat on one of the doors or windows, and when we rushed to see who was there we would find a small present for one of us. He would also wait until no-one was looking, and throw a handful of sweets across the room – That was Sinterklaas or Zwarte Piet dropping sweets down the chimney! This was quite believable to us – As this was in mid-summer there was no fire in the grate! I think the presents were quite small, and the “real” presents would have been kept back for Christmas.
For many years we received a special parcel from Holland, containing all the Sinterklaas goodies and sweets: Speculaas, Marzipan, Pepernoten, Kruidnootjes, Taai Taai, and large Chocolate letters, one for each of us in the shape of our initials. Everything was securely packed into a large square tin, suitably sealed against moisture or drying out, and then wrapped in cardboard and brown paper, and tied up with string.
We always had a Christmas tree. My Dad would drive out somewhere and cut a few branches from a pine tree – This would be the local “South African Pine”, with long needles. As it was midsummer the trees would be at their best. Then he would construct a realistic looking tree in the lounge, using wire and nails. Then would come the decorating with cotton wool for the snow, tinsel, coloured glass balls, and a star for the very top of the tree. In the earlier days we had real candles on the tree, and we had to watch them when they burnt down.
As the city developed it became more and more difficult to find pine trees to cut, and these days one has to buy a branch or two from the local Lions club in the parking lot at the local shopping mall!
Christmas Eve was spent singing Christmas carols, and listening to music on the radio. Christmas morning the children would be up bright and early, and we were allowed to open our presents. I particularly remember one year when I received my bicycle… I was out like a shot and rode around the neighbourhood until I was exhausted. When we were a little older we first went to church, which had a special children’s service at 8 am, and then quickly home to open our presents. Then my Dad would drive out to fetch my grandmother, and one or two of the children would go along to distract her – She would talk the hind leg off a donkey, and my Dad needed some “protection” so he could concentrate on his driving. She would catch a bus (perhaps a tram in the earlier days) from her flat in Hillbrow to the terminus in Parktown North, where we would pick her up.
The evening was very exciting… My Dad would sneak out of the room without us noticing, and then there would be a rat-a-tat-tat on one of the doors or windows, and when we rushed to see who was there we would find a small present for one of us. He would also wait until no-one was looking, and throw a handful of sweets across the room – That was Sinterklaas or Zwarte Piet dropping sweets down the chimney! This was quite believable to us – As this was in mid-summer there was no fire in the grate! I think the presents were quite small, and the “real” presents would have been kept back for Christmas.
For many years we received a special parcel from Holland, containing all the Sinterklaas goodies and sweets: Speculaas, Marzipan, Pepernoten, Kruidnootjes, Taai Taai, and large Chocolate letters, one for each of us in the shape of our initials. Everything was securely packed into a large square tin, suitably sealed against moisture or drying out, and then wrapped in cardboard and brown paper, and tied up with string.
We always had a Christmas tree. My Dad would drive out somewhere and cut a few branches from a pine tree – This would be the local “South African Pine”, with long needles. As it was midsummer the trees would be at their best. Then he would construct a realistic looking tree in the lounge, using wire and nails. Then would come the decorating with cotton wool for the snow, tinsel, coloured glass balls, and a star for the very top of the tree. In the earlier days we had real candles on the tree, and we had to watch them when they burnt down.
As the city developed it became more and more difficult to find pine trees to cut, and these days one has to buy a branch or two from the local Lions club in the parking lot at the local shopping mall!
Christmas Eve was spent singing Christmas carols, and listening to music on the radio. Christmas morning the children would be up bright and early, and we were allowed to open our presents. I particularly remember one year when I received my bicycle… I was out like a shot and rode around the neighbourhood until I was exhausted. When we were a little older we first went to church, which had a special children’s service at 8 am, and then quickly home to open our presents. Then my Dad would drive out to fetch my grandmother, and one or two of the children would go along to distract her – She would talk the hind leg off a donkey, and my Dad needed some “protection” so he could concentrate on his driving. She would catch a bus (perhaps a tram in the earlier days) from her flat in Hillbrow to the terminus in Parktown North, where we would pick her up.
After a large Christmas lunch we had to listen to the Queen’s Christmas message, and then by late in the afternoon we would deliver my grandmother back to the bus or her flat.
How times have changed….
posted by Peter | 8:32 AM
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