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The Best ever Christmas Memory is when my Mum came up to Townsville. We wrapped the kids Christmas Presents one at a time instead of putting items together.. The base of the tree and a quarter of the floor was this see of presents. The kids x2 had a ball opening them. I had to grab the Christmas paper up every time they opened one because the pressies were getting lost in the Christmas paper. I think my son was over it half way through.. but they did have an awesome time unwrapping the pressies.
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My favourite Christmas memory is in the 1960's and the Christmas Tree with 2 x pink ballerina tutu's and pink ballet shoes hanging on the tree. My 2 daughters aged 7 and 9 had started dancing lessons and they wanted to look like real ballerinas so, on my old treadle sewing machine, I sewed pink and silver satin bodices and attached layers and layers of pink net for the skirts. I was a widow with very little income and wish now I had been able to afford a camera to see the look on their faces when they saw what was hanging on the Christmas Tree!
I grew up in country Victoria and Christmas was the highlight of my year. We had a very large two storey home with most bedrooms upstairs. Every Christmas Eve, my Mother and Father (actually my Mother did all the work!) had a big party which was the place to be...if you were invited!
It was a very rowdy occasion and went until at least 1am. Each year, my sisters and I were sent off to bed to let the adults get up to mischief. As I was the youngest, I was sent to bed first.....not happy Jan!
This particular year at about 11.30 pm there was an enormous ruckus downstairs and we all woke up. I, of course thought that Santa had fallen down the chimney. As we crept downstairs the noise became louder. We peeked around the door at the end of the stairs to find four adults enjoying a ride on my new rocker (you know the old fashioned ones) which Santa had left for ME! They were playing on my Christmas present! I was very quickly ushered upstairs with the other girls who of course knew the truth about Santa. I was absolutely mortified to think, not only were they playing with my present.....why didn't they keep Santa there and come and get me! I never forgave them
It was a very rowdy occasion and went until at least 1am. Each year, my sisters and I were sent off to bed to let the adults get up to mischief. As I was the youngest, I was sent to bed first.....not happy Jan!
This particular year at about 11.30 pm there was an enormous ruckus downstairs and we all woke up. I, of course thought that Santa had fallen down the chimney. As we crept downstairs the noise became louder. We peeked around the door at the end of the stairs to find four adults enjoying a ride on my new rocker (you know the old fashioned ones) which Santa had left for ME! They were playing on my Christmas present! I was very quickly ushered upstairs with the other girls who of course knew the truth about Santa. I was absolutely mortified to think, not only were they playing with my present.....why didn't they keep Santa there and come and get me! I never forgave them
My favourite Christmas memory is dad making his special ice cream, on Christmas Eve.
Three days before Christmas mum would put four cans of evaporated milk in the refrigerator (this was a kerosene refrigerator)
The four metal trays would be scrubbed in readiness and placed in the ice chest of the refrigerator. Out would come the old crockery mixing bowl and the handheld rotary egg beater!!
He would empty the evaporated milk into the bowl, add a little bit of this and a little bit of that (I would ask what he was adding, but I never really got an answer, just it will “taste great”). He would beat the milk until it doubled in size… then pour it into the icy metal trays, back in the ice chest until it started to form ice crystals…then out it would come to be beaten again, again almost doubling in size…he would then pour it back into the trays…there was always too much after the second beating so we would have an ice cream milkshake. Off to bed and wait for Father Christmas to come!! Christmas lunch followed by mum’s Christmas Pudding with sixpence in it and dad’s ice cream….
Three days before Christmas mum would put four cans of evaporated milk in the refrigerator (this was a kerosene refrigerator)
The four metal trays would be scrubbed in readiness and placed in the ice chest of the refrigerator. Out would come the old crockery mixing bowl and the handheld rotary egg beater!!
He would empty the evaporated milk into the bowl, add a little bit of this and a little bit of that (I would ask what he was adding, but I never really got an answer, just it will “taste great”). He would beat the milk until it doubled in size… then pour it into the icy metal trays, back in the ice chest until it started to form ice crystals…then out it would come to be beaten again, again almost doubling in size…he would then pour it back into the trays…there was always too much after the second beating so we would have an ice cream milkshake. Off to bed and wait for Father Christmas to come!! Christmas lunch followed by mum’s Christmas Pudding with sixpence in it and dad’s ice cream….
My favourite Christmas memories are of when we were just young kids. We never had much as mum and dad had eight children, but Mum always made our Christmases something special. It was one of only a couple of times that we got to eat lollies, cakes and all those special things that came with Christmas. We would all before Christmas, "Spring Clean" the house and we all got in and helped. We always had a "real" Christmas tree and we would make decorations out of paper to hang. Christmas morning was so full of excitement as we couldn't wait to wake Mum and Dad up. Unwrapping our gift was so full of excitement and the house was so full of joy. A lot of my early childhood Christmas traditions I have carried on with my own family now. Mum truly did know how to put a Christmas on for us all. ....... Ruth
My favorite Christmas tale. Christmas at my Grandparent's house was a family affair. Mums, Dads, Aunts, Uncles, and up to 8 children all together for lunch. At the age of 10 yrs, I graduated from the children's table to the main adult table. I sat with all the grown-ups and even had a taste of beer. It was a day etched in my heart forever.
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My favourite Christmas memory happened at Christmas 2011. My niece who was 25 years old was very ill with lymphoma and had been in hospital for several weeks. We were living in Ballarat at the time and had all the family with us for Christmas but my niece remained in hospital with her family supporting her in Melbourne. On Christmas Day her Doctor made the decision that she could go home for lunch. In those days Skype was the online option for video calling so we all gathered together and made the call so we could see her on Christmas Day. It was a precious time for all of us as she returned to hospital later that day and passed away one month later. A Christmas I will never forget.
My favourite Christmas memories are of my beautiful mother Heather cooking a wonderful Christmas dinner. Christmas was always my favourite time of the year. My Grandparents and Uncle would all come over for Christmas lunch. There was always lots of love and laughter and mum would cook a delicious turkey with all the trimmings and dessert. My sisters, brother and I would receive carefully chosen Christmas presents from Santa (our parents) and our relatives. There was always lots of love and laughter. Until sadly our Mother became ill with cancer and passed away in 1972. She was only 42 leaving 4 children from 13 down to 2 years old. I desperately tried to keep mum's memory alive by recreating her famous Christmases with my own children but realised nothing will ever replace our mum.
Forever in our hearts. Love you mum xx
Forever in our hearts. Love you mum xx
My husband (now sadly passed) played Santa Claus at a major Brisbane shopping centre for 15 years. Everyday I would wash his Santa suit and clean his “beard” ready for the following day.
When our son was old enough to ask questions we replied with “Daddy was very lucky as Santa had asked him to help him at the shopping centre. Daddy looked alot like Santa and Santa had asked him to look after reindeer that were “parked” on top rooftop while he spoke to the children. So Daddy had to dress like Santa.” Our son accepted that and everyday as we drove to pick my husband up son would declare he could see Daddy with the reindeer on the roof. We lined up everyday of 6 weeks leading up to Christmas so son could say hello to Santa and never once did son guess it was his father and this went on until son was about 10/11 years old…… made Christmas magical for us and now always has special memories for son to share with his daughter.
When our son was old enough to ask questions we replied with “Daddy was very lucky as Santa had asked him to help him at the shopping centre. Daddy looked alot like Santa and Santa had asked him to look after reindeer that were “parked” on top rooftop while he spoke to the children. So Daddy had to dress like Santa.” Our son accepted that and everyday as we drove to pick my husband up son would declare he could see Daddy with the reindeer on the roof. We lined up everyday of 6 weeks leading up to Christmas so son could say hello to Santa and never once did son guess it was his father and this went on until son was about 10/11 years old…… made Christmas magical for us and now always has special memories for son to share with his daughter.
My mum and dad did not wrap Xmas presents. They would put out 4 chairs and they would stack our presents on the chair and around the chair.
I would count each present to see if we got the same amount. I wasn't worried about my brother's and sister but if I had one less present than the others I would throw a tantrum.
To this day I wrap my present because it's so much fun to rip the paper off and make sure my kids and grandchildren get the same number.
Oh childhood memories!!
I would count each present to see if we got the same amount. I wasn't worried about my brother's and sister but if I had one less present than the others I would throw a tantrum.
To this day I wrap my present because it's so much fun to rip the paper off and make sure my kids and grandchildren get the same number.
Oh childhood memories!!
Post-war Britain meant food rationing, clothes were hand-me-downs or recycled by clever sewers and toys were what granddads made from wood.
As a child my Christmases meant another jumper knitted by Nan from an unravelled one of hers, a second-hand doll dressed in rainbow coloured handknits and a dress Mum had patiently hand-sewn by gaslight. So, when the headmistress of our village school produced Wilfred and said someone would get him for Christmas, I knew he was mine.
I raced home as fast as my five-year-old legs could go and announced that Father Christmas was bringing me Wilfred. Everyone at school got sick of hearing that Wilfred was mine. The headmistress informed Mum he was the prize for the village Christmas Whist Drive but I assured them “Father Christmas and Baby Jesus will give him to me”.
Every afternoon I visited him in his glass case outside the classroom, telling him how much I loved him and what fun we would have.
My family searched from Coventry to Rugby but beautiful brown teddy bears were nowhere to be found except at Brandon Village’s Whist Drive.
Evening meals became hurried and I was put to bed early. I didn’t mind. I drew pictures by lamplight of Wilfred and me feeding our pigs, picking gooseberries and sitting side by side in school.
Every night I could hear Mum, Dad, Nan and Grandad fiercely holding vociferous inquests.
On the last school day before Christmas, I knocked on the headmistress’ door and said I should take Wilfred home now as Father Christmas may not find him. She replied that he would know whose home to take him to and it might not be mine.
“Stupid Woman!” I thought, but doubts crept in. How I prayed to Baby Jesus and sang the new hit song, “Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer” almost nonstop so Father Christmas could hear my desperation. Neighbours complained but I persisted.
Christmas Eve, I was put to bed with my empty pillowcase and babysat by a neighbour’s daughter while my family went off to the Whist Drive.
It was still dark when I awoke and excitedly tipped out my pillowcase - one hand-knitted jumper, one hand-sewn tartan skirt, a bag of nuts and the “Rupert the Bear Annual”. I threw the book on the floor and burst into heartbroken tears.
Nan’s head peeped round the door. “What’s up?”
Words wouldn’t come.
“Oh, my goodness,” Nan said. “This little fellow must have fallen off your bed in the night”.
There he was!
My loving family taught themselves to play whist and practised every night. Their determination and ferocity terrified all opposition. Mum and Nan were triumphant!
I learned many lessons that Christmas. Miracles do happen; prayers do work; I had a wonderful family and Father Christmas just couldn’t bear to hear me singing “Rudolf” any more.
As a child my Christmases meant another jumper knitted by Nan from an unravelled one of hers, a second-hand doll dressed in rainbow coloured handknits and a dress Mum had patiently hand-sewn by gaslight. So, when the headmistress of our village school produced Wilfred and said someone would get him for Christmas, I knew he was mine.
I raced home as fast as my five-year-old legs could go and announced that Father Christmas was bringing me Wilfred. Everyone at school got sick of hearing that Wilfred was mine. The headmistress informed Mum he was the prize for the village Christmas Whist Drive but I assured them “Father Christmas and Baby Jesus will give him to me”.
Every afternoon I visited him in his glass case outside the classroom, telling him how much I loved him and what fun we would have.
My family searched from Coventry to Rugby but beautiful brown teddy bears were nowhere to be found except at Brandon Village’s Whist Drive.
Evening meals became hurried and I was put to bed early. I didn’t mind. I drew pictures by lamplight of Wilfred and me feeding our pigs, picking gooseberries and sitting side by side in school.
Every night I could hear Mum, Dad, Nan and Grandad fiercely holding vociferous inquests.
On the last school day before Christmas, I knocked on the headmistress’ door and said I should take Wilfred home now as Father Christmas may not find him. She replied that he would know whose home to take him to and it might not be mine.
“Stupid Woman!” I thought, but doubts crept in. How I prayed to Baby Jesus and sang the new hit song, “Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer” almost nonstop so Father Christmas could hear my desperation. Neighbours complained but I persisted.
Christmas Eve, I was put to bed with my empty pillowcase and babysat by a neighbour’s daughter while my family went off to the Whist Drive.
It was still dark when I awoke and excitedly tipped out my pillowcase - one hand-knitted jumper, one hand-sewn tartan skirt, a bag of nuts and the “Rupert the Bear Annual”. I threw the book on the floor and burst into heartbroken tears.
Nan’s head peeped round the door. “What’s up?”
Words wouldn’t come.
“Oh, my goodness,” Nan said. “This little fellow must have fallen off your bed in the night”.
There he was!
My loving family taught themselves to play whist and practised every night. Their determination and ferocity terrified all opposition. Mum and Nan were triumphant!
I learned many lessons that Christmas. Miracles do happen; prayers do work; I had a wonderful family and Father Christmas just couldn’t bear to hear me singing “Rudolf” any more.
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My dear Mum had Alzheimers, lived in a Nursing Home and was reduced to just one word.. Tan, Tan, Tan..we never did work out what it meant. One Christmas Eve, we brought her to our home to spend the night. We gave her a lovely bath, and then gathered the family in the loungeroom. Sitting together, by candlelight, we started singing the old Christmas carols, with the lit up Christmas tree in the corner. To our greatest surprise, when we sang Away in a Manger, Mum started singing too, and she sang the whole song right through. We were amazed! It was a very special experience and a memory we all cherish, because by the next July, Mum had gone to heaven.
Every Christmas, my sister & I looked forward to our Christmas Stocking, which consisted of a pair of Dad's socks stuffed with fruit and loads of treats. We even would forgo our rare bacon & egg breakfast for our treats...then we'd sit on the front step in our bathers with huge slices of watermelon, having seed spitting competitions
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This is a simple one waking up on christmas morning and racing to the bottom of the bed where we hung a pillow case and hoping Santa had filled it spending the next hour unloading the pillow case usually before Mum and Dad woke up then we we all rushed in to Mum and Dad woke them up telling them what we got
I was 7 and my sister was 4. We shared a room and it was Christmas Eve. We lived in a little old house in country Victoria.
I was feeling very anxious about Father Christmas’s impending visit!!!!!! What if he mixed up our beds and we got the wrong presents!!!!!!! I had faithfully put my list in.
I made my mother put tinsel from the front door ( we didn’t have a chimney) to our separate beds with our names clearly written for him to see and give the correct presents!!
It worked - it was such an exciting morning.
Feeling confident the next year I didn’t think we needed the tinsel guide but my sister got the bride doll I really wanted!!!!
The brilliance of childhood
I was feeling very anxious about Father Christmas’s impending visit!!!!!! What if he mixed up our beds and we got the wrong presents!!!!!!! I had faithfully put my list in.
I made my mother put tinsel from the front door ( we didn’t have a chimney) to our separate beds with our names clearly written for him to see and give the correct presents!!
It worked - it was such an exciting morning.
Feeling confident the next year I didn’t think we needed the tinsel guide but my sister got the bride doll I really wanted!!!!
The brilliance of childhood
It was about 62 years back, so my memory is a bit foggy on the specifics. My best Christmas memory is one i can at 69 still quite vividly recall.
My mum (rip) organized a Christmas day lunch for all of our immediate Neighbour's and their children, as many families including ours, were very poor back then. I remember my mother made a Giant Chocolate Birthday cake for all the little kids and we all sat there at a giant trestle table full of treats, our party hats on feet dangling above the ground as we all held hands together and sang "HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO JESUS!"
I asked my mum after "why did we have a Birthday Party?" And she explained that it is the best way for the little people especially to appreciate what the day was truly about.
The thing about this that touches me still, is both of my parents came from separate orphanages and both had horrendous experiences, that they rarely ever talked about.
And yet my Mum who basically brought 4 children up by herself, saved up and put on this Giant Birthday Celebration to Jesus, so that the true spirit of the day may be felt by all of the Children. My mother Mrs. Dot Pink (rip) was a very special person.
My mum (rip) organized a Christmas day lunch for all of our immediate Neighbour's and their children, as many families including ours, were very poor back then. I remember my mother made a Giant Chocolate Birthday cake for all the little kids and we all sat there at a giant trestle table full of treats, our party hats on feet dangling above the ground as we all held hands together and sang "HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO JESUS!"
I asked my mum after "why did we have a Birthday Party?" And she explained that it is the best way for the little people especially to appreciate what the day was truly about.
The thing about this that touches me still, is both of my parents came from separate orphanages and both had horrendous experiences, that they rarely ever talked about.
And yet my Mum who basically brought 4 children up by herself, saved up and put on this Giant Birthday Celebration to Jesus, so that the true spirit of the day may be felt by all of the Children. My mother Mrs. Dot Pink (rip) was a very special person.
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