CHRISTMAS BIRTHDAY

"Christmas is the keeping place for memories of our innocence..." -Joan Mills

I'd never had a Christmas birthday party. The day dawned crisp and bright. I had high hopes. Five friends were coming. My mother was baking  and cooking away by dawn's early light. 

Christmas was a magical time. Plays, carolling, gatherings, music, more carolling. It all rolled into one big celebration.  And my birthday. Hidden there somewhere. But finally, I could have a party. With friends. On the 18th. The actual day. 

My mother decorated the dining room with  what she could afford. She stayed up late the night before polishing silver and cleaning plates. We did not have a lot, but she managed to count out the dollars to get party food.  My present this year would be the party only, she said. I agreed. 

"Heaven is where Christmas came from..."

                                          - C.D. Lounsborough

For dinner my mother planned shrimp cocktail, on sale  that week. They reminded me of pink worms as they sat in fancy shrimp glasses she had only used twice. She was going to fry 6 veal steaks, boiled veggies, potatoes, buns, and an apple pie. 

Just one pie was all she had time to make. 

But she did not  count on any of it for herself. She decided to have toast and eggs in the kitchen before . She was used to making sure everyone else was looked after.

She went without. Often. 

The evening came. The friends came. Shrimp cocktail was served.  We thought it was grand.My mother had only bought so many shrimp. I had less in my goblet. Spread across its crystal circumference.

Then my mother called me into the kitchen. There was a problem. The cat had gotten into the open packet of veal chops and eaten half of one. She had chewed it all the way across the counter.

The cat looked very pleased with herself. My mother said I would have to go without. So the guests got the veal chops. I got an extra serving of carrots. Oh yay me.

Dinner progressed. The stereo played. We talked. It was time for dessert.I was called back into the kitchen.This time it was to see the cat had licked the butter in its bowl.  My mother fretted about that butter. She had me toss it out and find the margarine. 

Then again, after all that, the cat had been walking on the counter. Stuck both paws into the apple pie.Sure enough, there were two round paw prints all the way through the pie. And some fur. Stuck to the one edge.

My mother informed me, no pie for me. She cut around the paw prints for my friends. I had to go without. I think she gave me the edge of the crust.  So not a lot of shrimp, no chops, extra carrots, and no pie for me. And then I had to wash the dishes and clean up. My mother sat in my dad's chair by the fire and  just sat there for a while.

Afterwards, when everyone had left, my  mother told me to rake the fire. The embers were low and she did not feel like doing much more.

The candles. The real candles......burnt low. The cat mewed . Probably for more butter. I washed pots and pans.Then washed the floor. My  mother stayed by the low burning fire.

Years later, I totally got it. Took me a while. I didn't see it at the time. She didn't eat when we ate. She made sure others got the best. Were cared for. She stayed in the background and cooked on a hot plate on the porch in the wind.  She managed to pull off the perfect dinner. She went without, so others could have. She made sure I would remember......

"Christmas is a season not only of rejoicing, but of reflecting.." -Winston Churchill

Photographs 2020