A tasty family tradition worthy of a book
Black cake and sorrel is an important tradition in most Caribbean-Canadian homes. In our home, we leave black cake and sorrel for Santa. (I wrote a book about it, which is available in many libraries and schools.)
When I was a kid, I didn't want to leave milk and cookies, because that is not my favourite Christmas treats. I figured I would leave my treats for Santa and hope that he likes it. Every Christmas morning, the food would disappear and I would be so happy believing that Santa ate it. As I aged, I learned that my uncle was the one eating Santa’s snacks!
My son now leaves Black cake and sorrel for Santa!
Guess who is eating it? Sssshhhhh
Yolanda Marshall, Toronto
Fur babies delight under the tree
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Many years ago, our two young daughters woke up Christmas morning and headed for the Christmas tree. We then heard: “We got a puppy!!” Followed by: “We got two puppies!!!!”
We then waited to find out if the two Guinea pigs could bark.
Lynne Barrett, Pefferlaw
Wishing everyone gets enough this Christmas
These past couple of years have been challenging especially with the COVID lockdowns, losses of jobs, illness and surgeries, and finally deaths in our little family.
It seems like we have “missed” about three years of our lives but we learned many new skills on the journey.
We learned how to manipulate our computers to be able to see and converse with family and friends and how to play games together while not actually in the same cities.
We learned how to work effectively from our homes so as to not be exposed to any malicious germs and pass them on to family members.
We learned how precious and important hugging is to our well-being.
We learned how to celebrate a life well lived even though our hearts were broken.
We learned how frustrating our medical system can be but also how caring and how comforting it can be.
We learned how strong our family can be in the face of unhappy diagnoses but how quickly and decisively the medical system reacted and continues to monitor progress.
We learned how caring and important our family and friends are to us.
And, if nothing else, we learned how to be more in touch with our feelings and how to appreciate our relationships and how to express our gratitude to and for the people we hold dear to us.
I am thankful to be alive and relatively healthy (at my age, body parts are starting to complain about prior misuse).
My Christmas wish for you, my family and friends, is that you have enough.
Enough good health even if that means taking medication.
Enough friends to see you through the good times and bad.
Enough face-to-face contact with everyone who is important to you.
Enough laughs to keep you happy.
Enough hugs to keep you feeling cared for.
Judy Worsley, North York
Family traditions make the fondest memories
My grandparents William and Maud Moxey came to Canada more than 100 years ago from England and lived in the west end of Toronto where they raised their five children.
Every Christmas Eve their large family would gather together to enjoy the season. The tradition has continued through the years with only the location changing through the generations from Durie Street to Jay Street in Toronto to Mississauga.
I will be 80 years old next year and this is the history of our Christmas and all the memories that come with it.
Donna Bell, Mississauga
Loved those 1970 Christmas cartoons
Once a week in the 1970s, the Star would run a single black and white cartoon which had a hidden bird that readers were to find. And every year around Christmas, a cartoon relative to the holiday would be published. For example, the Grinch who stole Christmas getting stuck in the chimney.
My dad would cut them out every year and paste them on cardboard and put them on the fireplace mantel.
Sandy Paterson, Hamilton
Emilee’s gift: A Christmas Story to my grandchild
After hanging the last ornament on the Christmas tree, Emilee stepped back and stood beside her father. “We’re done, Daddy.”
Her father scooped her up in his arms. “Not yet my little angel.” Emilee looked at the tree with a thoughtful frown. Her father said, “What’s the matter … my … little … angel, can’t you see what’s missing?”
Emilee glanced up at the top of the tree and then looked into her father’s eyes, moving her head closer and closer until their foreheads touched. “We forgot the Christmas angel!”
“That’s right!” Her father spun around several times before dumping Emilee in a giggling heap on the sofa. Then he stood on a chair and attached the silver-winged angel to the top of the tree. “What do you think, Emilee?”
“She’s beautiful, Daddy.” While her father packed a large cardboard box with the bits and pieces leftover from decorating the tree, Emilee sat on the sofa gazing up at the angel.
When her father returned from taking the box downstairs, Emilee said, “I don’t think we should leave Santa any cookies.”
Her father asked, “Why not?”
“If Santa eats too many cookies, he might get stuck in somebody’s chimney.”
“I don’t think that has ever happened to him before.”
“I think we should leave something for the reindeers instead.”
“All right. I bet they like carrots.”
“Carrots would be good. Reindeers don’t eat cookies do they, Daddy?”
“They might, but carrots would be better for them.”
Emilee nodded in agreement.
Emilee watched as her father vacuumed up the pine needles that had fallen on the carpet. As soon as he turned off the noisy machine she asked, “Why don’t all children get presents from Santa?”
“Well, some people don’t believe in Santa Claus… and some families don’t celebrate Christmas. Why are you asking?”
“One of the Christmas songs says Santa always knows if you’ve been bad or good. He puts your name on a list. And if you’re bad he won’t give you a present.”
“That’s just a song, Sweetie. Someone wrote those words to be funny … sort of like teasing. Santa brought me presents and I wasn’t always good when I was your age.” Emilee reached for her doll and held Hannah tightly in her arms.
Her father was returning to the room after putting the vacuum cleaner away when Emilee blurted out, “I want to give Hannah to Santa.”
Her father sat down beside her on the sofa. “You want to give Hannah away? Hannah is your favourite doll.”
“Daddy, I love Hannah so much… that’s why I want to give her to somebody else.”
“I don’t understand.”
“If I give Hannah to Santa, Santa can give Hannah to someone who isn’t going to get a present. Someone who isn’t… won’t have anyone to love on Christmas morning. Can we Daddy? Please.”
“Sure we can, if that’s what you want.”
“Do we leave Hannah beside the carrots?”
“Let’s see…. Oh, I know. We’ll take Hannah downtown and leave her with the people who work in the Salvation Army building. They will tell Santa they have an extra gift waiting for him. On Christmas Eve Santa and his reindeer will stop there and pick up Hannah. Santa will know a special girl who will love having Hannah to play with.”
“Daddy, why do you have tears in your eyes?”
“Because you’re a real Christmas angel.”
“I’m not an angel, Daddy, I don’t have any wings.”
Lloyd Atkins, Vernon, B.C.
