Sweet Christmas Memories

1640 Jonquil Drive:

Outside, floodlights crisscrossed the glittery snow, lighting the boxwood wreaths hanging on the floor-to-ceiling paned-glass windows that created the semi-circular room that jutted into the front yard of my grandparent’s house in suburban St. Louis. Inside, the lighting was no less theatrical, creating a Christmas “window” display that rivaled the ones of the grand old department
stores downtown.   A life-sized Santa Claus, lovingly assembled by Grandma
Louise out of an authentic red felt suit, gold buckled boots, and a bushy white beard sat waving merrily in front of a sparkling ornament-laden blue spruce tree surrounded by piles of packages wrapped in shiny white paper and tied with red ribbon.  Next to Santa was a child-size table and chairs, set with crisp linen and lace, English bone china teacups and saucers, petit four plates, and sterling silver spoons. My sisters, cousins, and I would play-act a proper tea party (Santa and Mrs. Claus [played by our grandmother] were always the guests of honor) for the neighborhood children who would peer in at us, mitten-covered hands pressed against the frosty windowpanes. 

As I outgrew Santa’s tea party, my attention turned to the Christmas tree that dominated the center of the room.  I loved hearing Grandma Louise tell why she always chose the “orphan tree” (a tree that is passed over because of its missing branches or crooked trunk).  Grandma knew that once the branches were laden with ornaments and the shiny star was placed on top, the tree would stand proud as family and friends admired its beauty throughout the holiday season.  I looked forward to helping Grandma decorate the tree, and as I carefully unwrapped each treasure and placed a brass holder through its eye, she would talk about the history of the ornament.  They were made in far off lands – Germany, Russia
and even a place called “Hungry” (Hungary), and I particularly liked the foreign
Santa Claus ornaments.  Imagine, a Santa Claus in a blue or brown coat, and one who rode a donkey, even a witchlike woman with a broom stick, these were the stories that captured my imagination and inspired me to learn more about Christmas traditions in other countries.

These childhood memories came rushing back to me a few years ago as I was creating my pop-up book, Christmas in New York, and rekindled my interest
in how other cultures celebrate Christmas.  Little did I know at the time that
the family story telling I was privy to and the sweet Christmas memories of
my childhood would lead me, many years later, to create this book.  I hope the joy and delight I feel when I revisit these early Christmas memories shines through in this book. And I hope the magic of the pop-ups and the history within the booklets will bring back sweet memories from your own Christmases past, and that this book will become a treasured family keepsake for many Christmases to come. 

Wishing you a Merry Christmas wherever in the world you are, and may you
and yours enjoy good health and happiness throughout the coming year.

New York City, 2007