By Collette Bonnar

 

It was the early 60s and the crack of dawn on Christmas Day heralded the beginning of an exciting and hectic day ahead.
Creeping across the landing where the Christmas tree stood pride of place, our hearts were beating with excitement to see what Santa had brought. Despite Santa not delivering exactly what we’d asked for in our letters, he had been extremely generous with our presents.

After an early breakfast – we had to fast for three hours before 11 o’clock Mass in Murlog Chapel – we dressed in our Christmas Day finery and made the short walk to Mass. In the meantime, Mammy and our older sisters were busy making the Christmas dinner as they’d been to Midnight Mass.
Dinner was at 2 o’clock and afterwards we played games of ludo, snakes and ladders, and draughts. Despite the anti-climax of Santa’s arrival being over for another year and the delicious Christmas dinner, there was still one more treat ahead – a visit to Aunt Nellie’s house on Christmas night.

Aunt Nellie had never married and she lived in what had been our grandparents’ home with her bachelor brother, Uncle John. Their farmhouse was less than a mile from our home but the road in those days was quite remote.

One particular Christmas night stands out in my mind. Santa Claus had brought me a lovely big doll with long hair tied up with ribbons and a beautiful red dress trimmed with white lace. I decided to bring it to Aunt Nellie’s house to show her my special present.
Mammy had tried to persuade me to take a smaller toy but no, it was my big doll or nothing. I considered asking my younger sister, Catherine, for a loan of her push chair which Santa had brought her but I loved my doll so much I decided to carry her in my arms instead.

Alas, 500 yards along the road, the doll became a heavy burden and one of my older sisters had to take over the ‘lugging’ of the precious doll.
As we turned into Aunt Nellie’s farmyard, I quickly grabbed the doll back. After all Santa did bring it to me!

When Aunt Nellie flung open the front door much to our delight we were ushered into the parlour where a blazing fire burned in the old marble fireplace. While there was no Christmas tree, a beautiful crib sat pride of place on top of the piano.

Holly, ivy, and fir cones decorated the mantlepiece and a sprig of red-beaded holly adorned all the pictures.

The first half hour of our visit passed in a flurry of excitement as we related to Aunt Nellie and Uncle John what Santa had brought and who had won the board games we played in the afternoon. Afterwards, Aunt Nellie poured us our favourite drink; Ginger Cordial. Then the de-luxe box of chocolates was opened and passed around. The box had a large red bow and contained three layers of sweets and on the lid was a beautiful picture of a thatched cottage and rose garden.

But it was the bottom layer that caught my eye and earmarked to be ambushed later. After the ginger Cordial and chocolates, Aunt Nellie dished up her special dessert; Pineapple Snow. A decadent dish of a souffle type which was made with fresh cream, egg whites, crushed pineapple, and gelatine.
When we’d polished off the scrumptious dessert, then there was the sneaky trip to the pantry. Unbeknownst to Aunt Nellie, a few of us would sample the remains of the delicious roast goose nestling in a large covered enamel casserole dish. Of course, we had to have a sample of the apple and potato stuffing before scurrying back to the parlour where a sing-song was about to begin.

It was then that I decided to do a little detour through the living room where Aunt Nellie had stored the box of chocolates from earlier. Such a great invention the second and third layers. A fistful of chocolates from the bottom layer was the perfect foil for fooling Aunt Nellie. Or so I thought…

A few Christmases previous, my brother Enda had got a button accordion from Santa so as the sing song got under way, Enda played Scotland the Brave accompanied by Uncle John on the piano. We all did our little party pieces, which included our nine-year old sister, Carmel singing Sean South from Garryowen.
It was far past our bedtime as we walked home along the lonely, icy road. Gazing up at the sky, there seemed to be millions of stars watching over us. Tired but happy, Christmas night had been the perfect end to a perfect day. ÷