I pulled the camera from the pocket of my winter coat and took a picture of the two boys in the seat of the bus behind me, as they threw themselves into a pose. Then I tucked the camera away. It was the first time my mom had let me take it and I was eager to capture every element of our class trip. We were going to the sugar bush, to see how maple syrup was made. I photographed each scene, the two boys from the seat behind included – first pretending they were tapping the trees, later boiling the syrup. At the end of the tour we all bought maple sugar candy in the shape of a maple leaf and I took one last photo as the boys each thrust one foot onto a snow-covered log. They flexed their stick-thin arms beneath thick winter coats.
I couldn’t imagine one day my own daughter, about the age I was at that time, would be asking for stories of my childhood, a time and place that now seem so distant.
At Christmastime, more than any other time, I realize how different my life is – China is a world away from the small Canadian town, surrounded by forests of maple trees, that I grew up in. As a child, I enjoyed a simplicity of life, yet was eager to explore. I longed to see more, but couldn’t imagine where that longing would take me.
It wasn’t just new places I enjoyed, but also special times, especially in December: singing carols each morning in our school auditorium, exploring the town square with it’s nativity scenes, and seeing the whole town lit up. Christmas was filled with awe. Now I work to inspire wonder in my own children, and often feel that, living in China, I’m at a disadvantage. I can’t recreate for them, what meant so much to me. No lights on neighbouring homes, no sugar bushes to explore, and no snow.
While we’ve made many memories, I always feel something is missing.
This year was different.
In November my brother and sister-in-law visited and brought Christmas along – their suitcases were as full as Santa’s sac. Instead of piles of snow, we had piles of treats and while we dug right in, I tucked a few things away.
Once December 25th arrived, we celebrated in the way that has become normal – far from family, far from snow. We made our favourite meal – pancakes, bacon, and eggs. And I pulled out a gift I had tucked away. As I did, I remembered the generosity of friends and family who sent gifts from afar.
While it was warm enough for us to wear t-shirts and the neighbourhood kids were all at school, the snowy scene on the tin and the rich taste of the maple syrup I poured from it, brought the magic of past Christmases into my China home.
This leaves me feeling sad/happy. Many years, when the kids were young, we lived far away from family, so I can relate to spending Christmas without them and feel sad for you. I can also remember receiving parcels from home at Christmas and what a happy time that was. I can feel the happy/sad with you. In some ways I feel it more deeply now from the perspective of old age – knowing what I know now. See what you have to look forward to someday!! Your favorite meal sounds awesome with bacon and maple syrup.
That sounds like he same combination of feelings I felt as I wrote. Thanks for sharing your similar experiences and the silver lining. The maple syrup was our silver lining this year;)
Charity, I can relate to that sad/happy feeling though probably on a far lesser scale. The traditions my family has (or doesn’t have as it seems some things constantly change) are not necessarily what I grew up with either. But that doesn’t stop me from telling my kids stories about my childhood! Hugs and Happy New Year!
I know what you mean. I often wonder what our Christmases would be like in if we lived in Canada. I know they’d still be different from the ones I grew up with. I’m glad you, too, are sharing childhood stories with your kids;)
P.S. Your drawing is so vivid I can feel the tin of maple syrup in my hand and the clinking noise it makes as it dents in and out! Love!
Thanks, Pearl!
Hey.
Great piece! You’re always so thoughtful and introspective. Good work.
For another perspective, I grew up as a kid experiencing a green Christmas every year with parcels from ‘home.’ (Then ‘home’ meant my parents’ home, not mine.) And the parcels, sent by ship, often arrived in March. Us kids didn’t really mind. We didn’t know any differently. And I have fond memories of our Christmases. I think your kids don’t know they’re ‘missing out’ – only you do. They are probably, as we were, enjoying the Christmas we had. We were quite fine without snow. And we made our own traditions. So … don’t worry about what your kids are missing … enjoy the Christmas traditions you are making. Smile. Be blessed!
Kathryn
You did make me smile! Thanks, Kathryn, for sharing the story of your green Christmases and gifts arriving in March. So great! I think you’re right – kids are happy for special times no matter what they look like!