A Christmas Carol Treasure

 Embossed on the red leather cover in gold letters and ringed by a delicate holly wreath are the words A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. It is a small book with gilt edges,   ‘a book that can be easily held in the hand and carried to the fireside…’

I’d determined to reread the book to enter the Christmas spirit in this pandemic year. I knew where to find it. In the side cabinet of my grandmother’s desk. Years ago it was to be found on a bookshelf in my family home. I hadn’t held the book in my hands in many years.

It smells old. The copyright is 1920. One hundred years. Because this is a purposeful rereading, I start with the introduction by A. Edward Newton, an American author, publisher and book collector. He tells the history of the book’s first publication and its influences for good in a world seemingly dominated by evil forces, a book, according to Dicken’s friend Lord Jeffrey that ‘had done more good than all the pulpits in Christendom.’

It is a story of redemption. Ghostly revelations spark Scrooge’s nostalgia for his younger, innocent self,  a self-awareness of his mean character in the present, and a gloomy vision of his future self. I can relate. The holiday season makes me nostalgic for Christmas in the Northern Hemisphere with family, especially childhood Christmases. In addition, long months of quarantine have induced me to much self-reflection that I believe also comes with the aging process. Not much time left for self-improvement!

I learn that the small book in my hand is an exact copy of the first edition, following Dicken’s dictates, including four color plates, the title page printed in red and blue, the end papers inside the covers of a Paris green color and gilt edges. I am holding a small treasure.

Our Christmas in this pandemic year will be a simple one in keeping with these times, focusing, as in A Christmas Carol, on extending cheer and love to our family, friends and neighbors.

 May these be our gifts throughout the year.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Coronavirus Christmas 2020

Christmas in the southern hemisphere where I’ve lived for the past 48 years is quite unlike my previous Christmases in California, distinguished by the fragrance of fir emanating from our live Christmas tree, the cold nippy air outside, Christmas card writing, gift wrapping, mall shopping, carols on the radio, the fireplace ablaze, the thoughtful placing of the figures in the Nativity scene. As the only child, I was the focal point of the day among parents, grandparents and great-aunts. My only uncle was an Air Force pilot, so he, my aunt and two boy cousins weren’t always around. Gathered in our living room, we read each gift tag aloud and handed over the package, waiting to see and proclaim over the contents.

    My first Christmas in Chile was a shock: sweltering days, a drooping pine branch with a few red ornaments, a crèche in the fireplace, in-laws, sisters- and brother-in-law and a gaggle of noisy nieces and nephews. Gift distribution was mayhem. Kids opened their presents in one big explosion of flying wrapping paper and ripped-open boxes. Over the years as I became accepted as one of the family, I suggested a bit of order might make it more enjoyable. In more recent years, when we’ve hosted Christmas at our house, my grandchildren helped decorate the tree with my old family ornaments, and we named a teenage Santa Claus who donned a red hat and white beard. Yet Santa always seemed to be in a hurry. My idea of order was difficult to maintain.

    Now we are the grandparents and the great-aunts and uncles. The younger generation has been hosting the December 24^th dinners. Families have grown as has the number of children present. The mayhem has returned. I didn’t put up our artificial tree last year for the first time. We’d be going to the grandkids’ house. I’d be the only one in our home to stop and notice the gleaming reflections of the colored lights in the silver, red and gold ornaments.

    This year I don’t know if it’s wise for us “seniors” to expose ourselves to the younger generations, who have not been strictly social distancing. I’m imagining a quieter 2020 Christmas Eve dinner at our house with just our generation. I don’t know if they’ll agree to this cautious gringa’s idea. But, after all, on the 25^th we’ll all be spending Christmas Day at our offspring’s homes. I’ll do my shopping online or in small stores. I’ll definitely set up the Nativity scene. Still undecided whether to put up a tree.

     To get into the holiday spirit, I’ll prepare the old family recipe for Scottish shortbread with my IPad tuned to Christmas music, reread my mother’s old copy of “A Christmas Carol,” and each morning I’ll water my zinnias while reflecting upon the most solemn lesson of this Coronavirus Christmas – the Interconnectedness of All.