Cousins Story 11
Christmas was always a big event in all our lives. It meant a trip to Grandma and Grandpa John Dueck's with Aunts' Justina and Hilda, Uncles Albert, Otto, Dan and Elmer, Aunt Martha and Bob Trumbley with their kids, and Laura and Uncle Art Dyck with their girls. None of these were actually Gerald's or my relatives, but because Aunt Nettie {Lisa aside: Nettie is my grandmother} and Uncle Jake, my Dad's siblings, had married into the Dueck family we were always invited).
We met in the Dueck's two-storey house on the farm at Lynette. The men visited in the living room, the women were busy in the kitchen, the young uncles were upstairs kibitzing, and the kids gravitated from place to place. Upstairs, we girls tried on Hilda's clothes and used her perfume and lipstick (without permission) or tormented the teen-aged uncles. Downstairs we helped ourselves to the nuts and candy in the living room and no-one ever said "Stop! You've had enough!"
Often we girls sat on the bottom stair leading to the second storey and watched the women getting Christmas dinner ready. The smells were wonderful. Both a turkey and a goose were roasting in the oven. There was the smell of potatoes and carrots cooking. Women were checking things for doneness amid a constant chatter as they were only all together like this once a year, at Christmas.
When the meal was finally ready, and on the table, the men and older boys got to eat first while the women served and we kids watched, hoping the men would leave at least a few of the choicer pieces for us. My favourite was the roast goose thigh with crispy brown skin and the traditional Mennonite raisin dressing called "bubbat". Sometimes, depending on how many persons had come, there was little goose or turkey left except for necks, wingtips, ribs and carcass bones after the men were done. It wasn't a man-thing back then to consider if everyone would get a fair amount. That was up to the women and I don't think the men even thought about it. I remember, as a very young girl, thinking that the men were thoughtless, and I remember one Christmas at the Dueck's where there was little meat left when the men were through. Maybe they were extra hungry; maybe the goose or turkey were smaller than usual, maybe there were more of us than expected, I don't know, but I do know that Aunt Elsie who was a cheerful, fun-loving person put a positive spin on it for all of us. Making sucking sounds, and smacking her lips, she worked over carcass bones held in greasy fingers, she smiled and said, "M-m-m! This is my favourite part!"
After all of us had eaten, the leftovers put away, and the dishes done - - - all women's work while the men relaxed, dozed and visited in the living room - - - it was time for "Christmas." Every year, we all drew names in a Christmas box for the following year. We were to buy a gift of about $1.00 for the person whose name we had drawn. We kids could hardly wait to see what we would get and from whom. Occasionally, someone forgot to get a gift. If the recipient of the missing gift was a kid, there was sadness and tears, but this didn't happen too often.
I remember only one gift from that exchange. My Dad had drawn my name, and thanks to my Mom's advice had ordered the book "SMOKY THE COWHORSE" by Will James from Eatons. I was absolutely thrilled. It was a horse story and I loved horses above any animal on earth. I read and reread it. I kept it until after I was married (Lisa aside: she was 60 when she got married) and eventually gave it to Clark Moebis who was also a fan of Will James books.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Before the gift exchange there was a program. It was a Mennonite custom from Russia that children learned two poems during the Christmas season, a Christmas Wish poem and a New Year's Wish poem. At Christmas and New Year's the children recited these poems to their parents. If they were old enough, they had also copied these poems into very beautiful folders which the children presented to their parents along with their oral recitations before receiving their gifts. We kids were asked to recite these poems at the Dueck's too. Sometimes Verna and Laura would sing duets. After the program, we finally go our presents. They were piled under the Dueck's Christmas Tree, some wrapped in Christmas paper, some just in brown paper, some not wrapped at all. I don't remember who handed them out. I just remember the excitement.
Transportation to and from the Dueck's at Christmas could be a problem. There were no snow plows, so if the December weather had brought us lots of snow and wind, we couldn't go by car. Even when the roads were drivable, cars often got stuck. We sometimes rode with Uncle Jake. Imagine 8 in a car - 4 adults, 4 kids - but we never felt crowded. Once I recall we were within half a mile of Duecks and the car got firmly embedded in a drift. Everyone except Uncle Jake got out. There was much pushing and shovelling and rocking the car back and forth till we finally got unstuck! To us kids, it was just an adventure!
Another time, I remember going with our bob-sleigh and Dad's team of blue roans. He had piled straw in the bottom of the sleigh, Mom had heated stones in the oven and wrapped them in burlap to keep our feet warm, we lay in the straw, covered with our tanned horse hide and away we went . . . at a walking pace! My Dad did not believe in making horses run when it was cold. he said it was too hard on their lungs.
NP: I was always susceptible to motion sickness, especially if I couldn't see out. t the bottom of the sleigh, all I could see was sky. It wasn't long before the motion sickness began. I fought it all the way to Duecks but when the sleigh suddenly stopped in their yard, I couldn't control it any longer. Oops! I threw up! Luckily my scarf caught most of the vomit, so after a wipe down by my Mom once we were inside, I was OK.
The trip home that year is one of my favourite memories. We lay in the straw with our feet on the reheated stones, our bodies covered by the horsehide with only our faces exposed. it was a calm, cold, clear night. The steel runners sang in the snow, the harness chains jingled, the harness leather squeaked, and the horses occasionally snorted as they walked along, a little faster than usual because they knew they were headed home to their own barn. Above us showed the Milky Way and a million other stars twinkled around us. I could recognise the Big Dipper and the North Star and Orion. There was no moon. As we rode along, replete in body, mind and spirit, a dreamy magical state of mind took over and I felt transported in time and place. It felt as if the sleigh was moving backwards into an unknown world! Before I knew it, we were home, and I did not get motion sick!
We met in the Dueck's two-storey house on the farm at Lynette. The men visited in the living room, the women were busy in the kitchen, the young uncles were upstairs kibitzing, and the kids gravitated from place to place. Upstairs, we girls tried on Hilda's clothes and used her perfume and lipstick (without permission) or tormented the teen-aged uncles. Downstairs we helped ourselves to the nuts and candy in the living room and no-one ever said "Stop! You've had enough!"
Often we girls sat on the bottom stair leading to the second storey and watched the women getting Christmas dinner ready. The smells were wonderful. Both a turkey and a goose were roasting in the oven. There was the smell of potatoes and carrots cooking. Women were checking things for doneness amid a constant chatter as they were only all together like this once a year, at Christmas.
When the meal was finally ready, and on the table, the men and older boys got to eat first while the women served and we kids watched, hoping the men would leave at least a few of the choicer pieces for us. My favourite was the roast goose thigh with crispy brown skin and the traditional Mennonite raisin dressing called "bubbat". Sometimes, depending on how many persons had come, there was little goose or turkey left except for necks, wingtips, ribs and carcass bones after the men were done. It wasn't a man-thing back then to consider if everyone would get a fair amount. That was up to the women and I don't think the men even thought about it. I remember, as a very young girl, thinking that the men were thoughtless, and I remember one Christmas at the Dueck's where there was little meat left when the men were through. Maybe they were extra hungry; maybe the goose or turkey were smaller than usual, maybe there were more of us than expected, I don't know, but I do know that Aunt Elsie who was a cheerful, fun-loving person put a positive spin on it for all of us. Making sucking sounds, and smacking her lips, she worked over carcass bones held in greasy fingers, she smiled and said, "M-m-m! This is my favourite part!"
After all of us had eaten, the leftovers put away, and the dishes done - - - all women's work while the men relaxed, dozed and visited in the living room - - - it was time for "Christmas." Every year, we all drew names in a Christmas box for the following year. We were to buy a gift of about $1.00 for the person whose name we had drawn. We kids could hardly wait to see what we would get and from whom. Occasionally, someone forgot to get a gift. If the recipient of the missing gift was a kid, there was sadness and tears, but this didn't happen too often.
I remember only one gift from that exchange. My Dad had drawn my name, and thanks to my Mom's advice had ordered the book "SMOKY THE COWHORSE" by Will James from Eatons. I was absolutely thrilled. It was a horse story and I loved horses above any animal on earth. I read and reread it. I kept it until after I was married (Lisa aside: she was 60 when she got married) and eventually gave it to Clark Moebis who was also a fan of Will James books.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Before the gift exchange there was a program. It was a Mennonite custom from Russia that children learned two poems during the Christmas season, a Christmas Wish poem and a New Year's Wish poem. At Christmas and New Year's the children recited these poems to their parents. If they were old enough, they had also copied these poems into very beautiful folders which the children presented to their parents along with their oral recitations before receiving their gifts. We kids were asked to recite these poems at the Dueck's too. Sometimes Verna and Laura would sing duets. After the program, we finally go our presents. They were piled under the Dueck's Christmas Tree, some wrapped in Christmas paper, some just in brown paper, some not wrapped at all. I don't remember who handed them out. I just remember the excitement.
Transportation to and from the Dueck's at Christmas could be a problem. There were no snow plows, so if the December weather had brought us lots of snow and wind, we couldn't go by car. Even when the roads were drivable, cars often got stuck. We sometimes rode with Uncle Jake. Imagine 8 in a car - 4 adults, 4 kids - but we never felt crowded. Once I recall we were within half a mile of Duecks and the car got firmly embedded in a drift. Everyone except Uncle Jake got out. There was much pushing and shovelling and rocking the car back and forth till we finally got unstuck! To us kids, it was just an adventure!
Another time, I remember going with our bob-sleigh and Dad's team of blue roans. He had piled straw in the bottom of the sleigh, Mom had heated stones in the oven and wrapped them in burlap to keep our feet warm, we lay in the straw, covered with our tanned horse hide and away we went . . . at a walking pace! My Dad did not believe in making horses run when it was cold. he said it was too hard on their lungs.
NP: I was always susceptible to motion sickness, especially if I couldn't see out. t the bottom of the sleigh, all I could see was sky. It wasn't long before the motion sickness began. I fought it all the way to Duecks but when the sleigh suddenly stopped in their yard, I couldn't control it any longer. Oops! I threw up! Luckily my scarf caught most of the vomit, so after a wipe down by my Mom once we were inside, I was OK.
The trip home that year is one of my favourite memories. We lay in the straw with our feet on the reheated stones, our bodies covered by the horsehide with only our faces exposed. it was a calm, cold, clear night. The steel runners sang in the snow, the harness chains jingled, the harness leather squeaked, and the horses occasionally snorted as they walked along, a little faster than usual because they knew they were headed home to their own barn. Above us showed the Milky Way and a million other stars twinkled around us. I could recognise the Big Dipper and the North Star and Orion. There was no moon. As we rode along, replete in body, mind and spirit, a dreamy magical state of mind took over and I felt transported in time and place. It felt as if the sleigh was moving backwards into an unknown world! Before I knew it, we were home, and I did not get motion sick!
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