Love most important ingredient

Page 4

It's Christmas time again.

Each year, as this time approaches, I try to plan something special for my family. This year was no exception.

As I planned for this special day, I remembered my own childhood Christmases.

In my early school years, as this time grew nearer, I used to count the days till Christmas because for me the holidays meant going home. Being in an Indian residential school all year, my brothers, sisters and I looked forward to being home with family.

However, being in residence at this time was exciting, too, for the birth of Jesus was a significant time.

But, for me, the most memorable thing about this time was the wonderful warm feeling that everyone seemed to project. They all made special efforts to be kind and understanding.

One year, we almost didn't make it home for Christmas. Our family home was quite a distance from the residential school and my parents were having difficulty coming to get us.

Although the Christmas spirit was prevalent throughout the school, I wanted desperately to be at home with my mother, father and younger brothers and sisters.

That night before Christmas, as I listened to the angelic sounds of carols filtering through our dormitory, I cried. I had accepted that I would not be home for Christmas.

Very early Christmas morning, my father showed up. After attending mass in the mission chapel, we all went back to my grandparents' home on the reserve. That was a Christmas to remember.

All my father's relatives were present, my grandparents, my aunts, uncles and cousins. And all my brothers and sisters were together.

In later years, as Christmas drew near, my mother always made special plans. She started by thoroughly cleaning the house. The scrubbing, waxing and polishing rituals seemed to take forever.

But we always managed to make it fun. (I made sure that I was assigned to help polish the floors. Polishing the floors meant sitting on an old wool sweater and having my sister pull me around until the floors shone. We busied ourselves for hours it seemed, screaming and laughing all the while.)

Although the presents that eventually ended up under the tree must have been important to me then, I certainly don't remember them now. What stands out most in my mind is the love and togetherness we shared as a family.

Through the years, as we all got older, these traditions seemed to become less important. Certainly, the death of our grandparents, our father and our brother made these occasions less joyous. And, although their spirits will remain with us forever, there will always be a certain sadness and emptiness at Christmas.

So, this year as I planned for Christmas, I thought of giving to my family and friends a little bit of what made my Christmases special - my wonderful memories of family and the love and joy we shared at Christmas.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!