It's
December and mum would have started Christmas preparation,
She’d
brush the wooden walls off bugs – hall, room and kitchen,
Dad
would do the shopping, marketing and Yule-tree decoration,
While,
we, kids got in their way and caused much consternation.
Mum
would sew our frocks, shirts and pants matched inside out,
Dad
would cut out old Christmas cards and hang them about,
The star,
he shaped from silver and gold cigarette packets he got,
While we
messed up the house, danced, played and fought.
Mum
was a connoisseur of Indian cuisine and western dishes,
Roasting
or frying, she would grind her very own spices,
The aroma of her
cooking would pervade the surrounding houses,
While we could
barely wait for the days to get nearer to Christmas.
Biscuits,
cakes and sweetmeat, we helped mum do the cooking,
Shaping dough
with a fork, we’d work till three in the morning,
Shell-shaped
biscuits we made, crispy, sugary and mouth-melting,
While mum did
the frying, we were allowed to do the tasting.
On
Christmas Eve, mum had the chicken fried and turkey roasted,
Dad
had the altar cleaned, our clothes ironed and the crib perfected,
The
table-cloth was laid, the floor swept and the carpet dusted,
While
we had to sleep at noon, so that night we wouldn’t be
tired.
Getting ready for midnight mass was a joyous
adventure,
Dad would comb my tresses parting the hair in the
centre,
Mum in sari, dad with bow-tie and coat, an unforgettable
picture,
Off to church, by trishaw we’d go, so walking wouldn’t
be a bother.
After months of practice, dad was the conductor
of the choir,
Gloriously he sang for he had the voice of baritone
and tenor,
If one upstart lacked practice and sang tunelessly, it
irked dad’s ire,
To dad, hymns were praises to God sung with
homage and honour.
Come Christmas morning, our house would be
full of people, far and near,
Dad's urgent whisper “Make sure,
there’s some left for our children, dear,”
Under mum’s
watchful eye food was enough for family and friends together,
I'll
never forget Christmas aeons ago that was filled with joy and
laughter.
Click here to visit VoicesNet.com to read the poem called "MEMORIES OF CHRISTMAS PAST" by Jacinta Ramayah, Malaysia
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