A Dutch-English-Scotch/Irish-German-Polish Christmas
The current Politically Correct agenda (Be offended by any gift offered that is
contrary to your own private beliefs) is to exclude Christmas and replace it
with a generic Happy Holidays as a necessity to avoid offending minorities. That
is not the American Way which is to to celebrate your own way while honoring
every one else as my memoir of growing up with conflicting ethnic influences
will show.
My dad was born in the Netherlands. In that country, Christmas is strictly a
religious observation. Presents are exchanged on a different day by Sinter Klaus.
My mother's family was British who celebrate the Twelve Days of Christmas after
Christmas. That's when the lords start leaping and the pipers start piping.
Although we were raised strict Dutch Reformed, my dad believed when in Rome Do
As The Romans Do so we were allowed to expand the Christmas celebration to
include the American Way which is a mixture of everybody. We didn't have to
follow Dutch Reformed customs in other people's homes. My mother's grandpa was
Scotch-Irish (Protestants from Northern Ireland who always wore orange on St.
Patrick's Day). He had been a coal-miner. He could not read or write as he
had never been to school. My mother's parents were deaf. The deaf are LOUD.
Before visiting my dad's family we had to receive a formal invitation. We had to
dress in our Sunday Best and go to the front door. When we visited my mom's
family we just barged in the back door, yelled "you hoo" and plunked ourselves
down in the kitchen. Much to my dad's dismay I called my mother's family the
"normal ones".
Christmas began on the day Sinter Klaus arrived when we visited my dad's family.
They could not speak English. If I had been good I got a klompon (wooden shoe)
stuffed with goodies like an orange and hard candy (Yuck). Luckily I was never
bad enough, although I certainly had to work hard at not being bad, to get a
lump of coal from Zwarte Piet. Gram sat in a wheelchair and had an amazing bird
house on the wall. My sister and I would sit right underneath it waiting for the
bird to come out and cry "coo coo." We were amazed that my dad could predict
when it would come out. How did he know that bird so well?
The Saturday before Christmas is when we decorated our tree. My dad put up the
lights and my mom put up the ornaments. The cat took them down. I put up the
icicles. My mom tried to get me to put them up singly rather than in a clump. So
to please my mother, I put up small clumps.
Although we did our daily shopping at the neighborhood stores, my mother took us
downtown to the BIG department stores for Christmas. We took the bus. I liked
the ones that had a few single seats up front across from the driver. I liked
having my own seat although my mother made me give it up to any elderly old lady
who got on after we did which I thought was most unfair.
We stopped at Herpolsheimer's Department Store who had Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer whose nose lit up when he talked to you. He would send a present down a chute with his hoof. There was a train that went around in the sky. I was only allowed to ride it once. It rattled and jerked. They had a Santa too but NOT the REAL one. He was really just one of Santa's Helpers, a big elf, dressed up to look like Santa.
There were more helpers dressed like Santa standing on the street corners ringing bells by big red kettles but they didn't give out any presents. Then it was onward as my mother dragged me along the snow-covered sidewalk while I struggled through the slush and on-rushing raised knees to our next stop, Steketee's Department Store. They had Mickey Mouse and Minnie Mouse who were too busy to talk while they hurriedly gave out presents.
Finally we would stop at Wurzburg's Department Store which had amazing window displays of houses and trains full of people all dressed up for Christmas and animals who moved. I had to watch each figure move in each window. Then we had to go up the escalators to the toy department and had to stand in a very long line surrounded by toys so I could visit with the REAL Santa Clause. I knew he was real because he had ridden in the Santa Claus Parade and when it was over, he went right inside Wurzburg's.
We visited my dad's boss, Lloyd, who was married to Pete (Pete was a girl). He
wasn't Dutch or Scotch-Irish, he was just boss. My sister and I would receive a
roll of brand-new, sparkling-clean, uncirculated pennies. The adults tried to
convince us to save them. Oh, what to do. The hardships of being a child. Should
we spend fifty cents on TEN candy bars or invest it for our future? Oh how hard
we tried to please Dow Jones. We pleased Milton Hershey. My sister liked the
semi-sweet the best but I liked the ones with almonds. I wanted some crunch for
my copper.
Then we visited my deaf grandparents. The deaf do not sign or talk
word-for-word. They did not say, "We're going to the store." They said, "We
store go." Grandma worked setting up displays at the dime store. I loved
shopping there. My gram tried to interest me in a pretty ribbon for a present. There were rows
of spools of ribbons in many different colors made out of different material -
cotton, velvet, suede. She tried to interest me in embroidery. There were heaps
of dresser scarves with patterns to be stitched but I liked the toy cars the
best which
were just stacked in a pile. There was no plastic anywhere. Nothing was
pre-wrapped.
Then we would visit my Aunt Evelyn who had married a German Lutheran. My cousin
had comic books! My uncle drank beer! We sang Silent Night with funny words like
Stilly Knock, Holly Knock. It was fun. They had a piano with a roll of towels
that played by itself and a record player that had to be wound up by hand. I
didn't like my aunt's dinner, though. I didn't recognize any of it as everything
was covered in a heavy sauce. I didn't like eating anything that had to be
hidden.
We would visit the Polish Catholic neighbors. They had a television and Holy
Water which they did not drink. What's the point of having Holy Water if you
don't drink it? I remember the year they gave me a lovely bust of the Madonna.
She was beautiful and wore a blue scarf. The Madonna is precious to the
Catholics but idolatry to the Dutch. My father wasn't offended for me to receive
such a precious gift and let me set it out on display (I still have it). We just
didn't pray to her.
We celebrated our family Christmas on Christmas as Americans did. I remember the
year when Betsey Wetsey dolls were the hot ticket. You fed her from a bottle
filled with water and then had to change her diapers. Santa gave me a generic
Betsey Wetsey doll that I dissected to see where the water went.
As part of the Twelve Days of Christmas, my parents went out on New Year's Eve
but not before my mother would split a 12-oz bottle of O-So Grape pop between me
and my sister. We would watch with eagle eyes to make sure she wasn't off by a
drop. It took her forever! The babysitter was a girl named Maureen Stoutjesdyke from down the street. My
sister and I would make such a supreme effort to stay awake until midnight but
we never made it. Was it the pop?
I didn't look at us as being deprived as is so Politically Correct today or what
I like to call Total Nonsense. I felt privileged to celebrate Christmas so many
times in so many ways and receive so many presents. Christmas fits America so
well because both Christmas and America are about sharing ourselves with other
people not excluding them. A gift reflects the giver too not just the recipient.
If you are a Christian, then you can say Merry Christmas to everyone. If you are
Jewish, then you can say Happy Hanukkah to everyone. If you are a Scrooge, then
you can say Bah Humbug to everyone.
That's the American Way.
MERRY CHRISTMAS
From Heading: Personal Background
From Website: MyGrandRapids.info