A Christmas Memory

“Seven year-old Buddy knows that Christmas season has arrived when his cousin, Miss Sook Falk exclaims: It’s fruitcake weather!  Thus begins an unforgettable portrait of an odd, but enduring friendship between two innocent souls – one young and one old and the memories they share of beloved holiday rituals”   Truman Capote – A Christmas Memory. 

One such ritual is of baking loads of Christmas cakes…………….

For most of us Christmas is a time of ritual and memories. 

Growing up in a manse meant that we lived right next door to the church, it certainly had its advantages as well as a litany of disadvantages, however, sweet old ladies Christmas gifts of homemade cookies, ginger beer and bottles of “4711” perfume, more than made for the hardships of being a preacher’s kid.

Christmas day was an extremely busy day for my father, living in a small town or dorp meant that he had to minister to three communities.  Due to the cruelty of apartheid, black, coloured and white congregants worshipped separately in three separate buildings.   On Christmas day my sisters and I always accompanied my father to the “township” churches.   Much to the delight of the congregation we always joined in the hand clapping, foot stomping, jiving and melodious singing of carols and hymns.  It was lively, beautiful, heart felt and loud accompanied by a touch of sadness that all of us, children of God were required by law, to worship separately.

My most endearing memory of those moments was the sense of community and Ubuntu and huge bear hugs, occasionally someone would press a five cent piece in our hand, insist we take it to buy some “lekkas”

The rest of our day was spent escaping the Karoo heat, eating leftovers from our Christmas Eve dinner and digging into a wonderful selection of homemade biscuits and the like.

In a Christmas Memory Buddy and Miss Sook set about baking a lot of cakes……………..

“Who are they for?

Friends. 

Not necessary neighbour friends: indeed, the larger share is intended for persons we’ve met maybe once, perhaps not at all.  People who’ve struck our fancy.  Like President Roosevelt.  Like the Reverend and Mrs. J. C. Lucy, Baptist missionaries to Borneo who lectured here last winter.  Or the little knife grinder who comes through town twice a year. 

Or Abner Parker the driver of the six o’clock bus from Mobile, who exchanges waves with us every day as he passes in a dust cloud whoosh.  Or the young Wistons, a California couple whose car one afternoon broke down outside the house and who spent a pleasant hour chatting to us on the porch (young Mr. Wiston snapped our picture, the only one we’ve ever had taken).  Is it because my friend is shy with everyone except strangers , that these strangers, and merest acquaintances seem to us our truest fiends?  I think yes.  Also the scrapbooks we keep of thank you’s on White House stationery, time-to-time communications from California and Borneo, the knife grinder’s penny post cards, makes us feel connected to the eventful worlds beyond the kitchen with its view of a sky that stops”  Truman Capote – A Christmas Memory

I am so grateful for the experience of being part of a large Cypriot family,  I know that my friends Buddy and Miss Sook would have approved and found our particular Christmas ritual most enjoyable, in fact, very enjoyable.

George’s uncle, Platon, owned a game farm in Committees Drift, a farming community between Grahamstown (Makanda) and King Williams Town (Qonce).  Every Christmas, family and friends from near and far were invited to join Platon, Anna and their family for Christmas lunch on the farm. 

A comforting and welcoming site was the array of tables and chairs arranged haphazardly around the garden under umbrellas and big trees offering shade and comfort for friends and family who travel far and wide to enjoy Christmas festivities together.

One of the most fantastic things about this event is that every family contributes towards the lunch by bringing a salad, or a vegetable dish or a dessert.

More importantly we bring and share love, joy, laughter, our “ups and downs”, heartaches and pains. Our conversations are real, raw and wonderful!

For the younger members of the gathering there was a sense of freedom, for a brief moment in time they are free to run, play hide and seek, and gloriously enjoy being a child.  In the late  afternoon we were invariably treated to a game drive in and around the farm. 

In fact for all of us there was always a sense of joy – the matriarchs sat around a table sharing news and family information, while the patriarchs gathered around chatting about business, the state of the nation and many other topics.  Everyone found their spot where they were welcomed and loved.  Often the music would be cranked up a volume or two and Platon (a very good dancer) would dance. 

COVID 19 took its toll and Christmas 2019 was the last time we gathered on the farm.

For a while we all seemed to be lost and adrift, until Andri (a kind and loving matriarch in the making) decided that we need to celebrate Christmas as a family again.   We all gathered at Andri and Mani’s holiday home in Boknes, a joyous day of making memories, yummy food, laughter and reminiscing. 

Christmas rituals and memories are elements that link our past to the present and therefore give us hope and courage to face the uncertainties of the future.  It is also about sustaining love and friendship.

Heading home after a joyful and wonderful day – the words of Miss Sook ring true:

“I could leave this world with today in my eyes – Truman Capote  – A Christmas Memory

“A Christmas Memory” by Truman Capote is enchanting and endearing – please read it aloud to yourself as well your children and grandchildren

In Memory of Taki, Nicko and Lala

With gratitude to Platon and Anna, thank you for creating a place and a space to make wonderful memories.

To Andri and Mani, fine people who embody the principals of love, inclusion and harmony.