Still, a few slices of fruit cake are left on the side board, waiting for a taker. As I look upon those slices I reflect on a Christmas from the past. - - - - -
In a little yellow house with green trim three generations
of family gathered on a misty Christmas day.
The windows glowed with twinkle lights through the foggy
warmth of warm wool covered bodies.
Aunts, Mothers, and Grandmothers added spice to the evening’s
dinner along with the spice of conversation.
The kitchen bulged with laughter and the music of pans clanging as the
children; banished from the kitchen played wildly in the breeze way, cheeks
flushed with the seasons color.
Uncles, Fathers and Grandfathers traded stories of past
days, gardens, gears and engines as they poked around in the garage with
cousins playing chase in and out.
For the children, passage through the small living room was
only allowed as needed to make their way to the bathroom. The expanse of card
tables strung together created a tunnel of table and chair legs challenging the
skilled to reach the needed destination without disturbing the festive draped
linen, china, silver and candle sticks overhead.
Finally, the moment of the gathering came. Squeezed
together, bumping elbows the generations sat.
Ruffled and pressed blouses among shirts and ties, olives danced on the
hands of kids, fluffy potato mountains rose above gravy rivers, and the Jell-O
salad shimmied on a crystal plate.
Wonderful enough, but not what youngsters were waiting
for. Now the tables folded a full view
of the piney giant, smothered with green and red wrapped packages. Eager to start the carnage of paper versus
child a pause for coffee and sweets to fuel the adults through the evening, a
small table is set in the living room.
Arms full of pies, cookies, and candy carefully arranged on
pedestals arrived to the amazement of all.
Then a moment of hush cascaded through the room as the hostess carried a
large platter surrounded with the aroma that melts in your mind forever. Rich and sticky, shining with candied fruit,
white clouds of icing circled the wreath with silver beads of candy adorning
perfectly sliced green and red cherry holly leaves. Fruit cake!
What are traditions, if not for keeping the little things close to the heart?
