Today my thoughts go back to the country where I grew up, South Africa. I’m doing a comparison in my mind of that time to the present time on a frigid Christmas Eve, 2022.
It was a long time ago. Sub tropical South Africa lies in the Southern Hemisphere, so Christmas is always reliably hot. We used to go to the beach at Mtunzini for our celebration. I only remember one turkey in South Africa. His name was George, and he lived with his turkey hens behind a high fenced large run. |
He had a powerful “gobble” voice, and would use it any time we kids would approach. At the same time he would expand all his tail feathers into a large fan, making himself as large as possible, and strut threateningly as close as he could. We were safe, as he was behind the wire fence.
We ate sandwiches, and made tea with milk. It was called sterilized milk, and came in bottles sealed with crimped metal caps. A strange but wonderful taste, that milk. I’m so glad to have had those hot Christmas experiences.
Over the years, from first settling in Canada, to now, so much has happened in life. I’m no longer that child who ran along a sun-kissed beach at Christmas time. Life has aged me with its joys and sorrows. You can never be a child again.
That’s why it’s so important to make sure children do have a childhood. Tragically, this Christmas, with the world in turmoil, it is very hard to preserve the innocence of childhood for them. We must all redouble our efforts because they are our future and need their childhood memories. They help you get through the bad times later on.
Folks had planned for this time with such anticipation and happiness, after more than two years of being kept apart by Covid. My heart goes out to so many who have ended up spending uncomfortable nights in airports, instead of with their loved ones. Yesterday thousands of flights were canceled. Same with transportation in trains, ferries and buses. The only way seemed for some to drive. That didn’t work out either, and this morning rescuers are trying to help thousands of weary, scared and unhappy folks. Several deaths have occurred.
I think back to the pain of leaving my country. Of what Christmas is like for the thousands of migrants and refugees in our world. Of the terrible war in Ukraine. How so many seem hell-bent on destroying the concept of fairness and democracy in the world.
This Christmas is a tough one. So many would be happy to give up a feast if they could just be in the presence of their loved ones. But it just can’t happen. Hopefully, technology will at least just give a semblance of that, with FaceTime and WhatsApp. We are all so incredibly fortunate to have these virtual family and friends visits!
George and so many others have left my life. Something learned through grief though is that we do recover and find new experiences, new ways of making the best of living, new lives and friendships.
It’s the people, and the memories, not the presents and food, that make Christmas a special time.
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