Wake up and smell the cranberry sauce

Vintage Christmas card from the
archives of Kootenai Brown
Pioneer Village

Toni Lucas

Mmm, can you smell it? Coffee. Although I don't indulge in coffee often, when I do, I take a big whiff before my first sip. I love the smell, wrapping my hands around a large, thick hot mug, listening to the final gurgles of the machine.

We all have little rituals in our lives, our day. No other time do these rituals come to the forefront more than during holidays.

Christmas is the biggest holiday for the spawning of rituals.


When I was little, my mom could not be pushed to have the Christmas tree decorated before December 22 even if it was brought in at the beginning of the month. Often it was on Christmas Eve itself that we decorated the tree as a family. I could count on being allowed to open two packages with my name on them on Christmas Eve. It took me a few years to see a pattern. One was a gift that would occupy our minds and hands. For me one year it was a rug hooking craft set, another it was a book that I really wanted. Individually tailored to keep each child occupied, these gifts usually kept us busy till bedtime. The second gift was brand new sleepwear for everyone, the signal that it was time to get ready for 'sugarplums dancing' and being in bed. Every year, we had new pair of moccasins as part of our tradition of Christmas. This was a practical tradition because of little feet grew and a house built before the era of in-floor heating.

The scents of the whole house changed for the season. The tree was live, and gave a glorious scent to the whole house. I often made wreaths of the trimmed branches, spreading the aroma through the house. Candles, both scented and plain wax are another smell that I link with Christmas. With scents, I have to mention smells and tastes of the food. Christmas baking of cookies and candies. Turkey, yams, potatoes and dressings. Sage, butter, gravy and cranberries. nutmeg and cloves. Bowls filled with nuts, candies, chocolates and oranges. Pickles, relishes, and jars of fruits were brought up from the root cellar. Apple cider, and eggnog all join into the scents and tastes that are stamped into my brain and bring me closer to Christmas.

The sounds that ring in my memory of the season are the still quiet moments, bells, laughter, the tearing of paper, exclamations, Christmas music, songs, and programs that the whole family watched together.

The rules were strict for the rituals of opening the presents because of one particularly bad incident in our family. After Santa left one Christmas Eve one year a particularly naughty child got up and opened all the presents under the tree, played with everything then went back to sleep. I think it was close to a year before Santa slid me back into the nice column, and longer for my siblings. My family ribbed me about it pretty much every year, gently as I was a toddler at the time. Awkward, but fondly remembered the memory was shared year after year.

I loved touching the branches of the tree while decorating it, reverently unpacking cherished ornaments, rediscovered anew each year. Special linens were brought out to enhance the overall mood of celebration. The tree skirt, table cloths, runners, aprons, Christmas mats and towels. Shiny slick wrapping paper covered boxes with with bright bows. These excited little hands into hefting and shaking them to guess what was within a game that added to the suspense of the moment. I loved lying on the floor, looking up at the Christmas tree majestic with lights, and seeing the sparkle everywhere.

What always marks Christmas time for me though, does not always present itself for me as it is dependent upon southern Alberta weather. That is when I have a walk in the evening, with little to no wind, and the snow gently falling. It is the picture postcard, the calendar photo, the moment I feel most as peace with myself, nature, and the season. Virgin snow, unmarked by man or beast within my vision before me is key to this. As a child I knew that tracks, tobogganing, snow men and snow angels would soon appear, heralded by the snow, marking the landscape. That moment though is pure, and fresh. This year, I had that moment on December 3rd. I once again feel the joy of the season.

As an adult, I have kept many of the traditions of my family, Some have been examined and found flawed, like an old fashioned set of lights. Like a string of lights that no longer work those traditions have been discarded. Often they are replaced by new actions, that over time became rituals in themselves. Christmas engages me with all of my senses, not just sight sound, touch, smell, and taste, it also captures my sense of joy, awe and wonder.