part 3 of “to Santa or not to Santa”
I began my parental relationship with Santa Claus with slight trepidation. After introducing him to our four and five year old children I still worried (I was such a worrier) about whether we had done the right thing. The kids understood that Santa had a few rules to follow if he was to remain welcome in our home, and I tried to tread that ground carefully, balancing my idealism with allowing my children to enjoy the gift of magic and excitement that he had always brought to me as a child. I didn’t want to hold him hostage, but . . . . . .
Oh how I wish that I could have had the slightest glimpse into the future – just enough to know that all would be well so that I could have relaxed a bit.
As time went on, I witnessed Santa evolve into the central figure in our Christmas celebrations as we enjoyed sharing the holiday with grandparents and aunts and uncles who delighted in the few children in both our families. We were riding a wave that I felt powerless to control, and I wasn’t happy about it. The way Christmas had developed – not because we actively created it, but because we allowed it – left me unsatisfied and feeling that I was letting our children down. Santa had become all I said I’d never allow him to become. He became our Christmas. I knew I could ask him to leave. I had reserved that right after all, but now there were so many others to consider. The overwhelming reality however, was that we were still the parents, and it was our responsibility to follow our hearts and reclaim the way we celebrated Christmas.
I tossed it around for months, considering different angles, and discussing the few that seemed reasonable with Dan. Santa and Jesus didn’t have to be mutually exclusive and although we had tried to talk about the source of the tender spirit-of-giving that motivated Santa, it seemed that our kids were so busy being ‘children’ (huh), full of the childhood wonder of Santa Claus with all his trappings, that I feared I had missed something really important. I sensed that time was ticking, and their memories were becoming more firm and important. It was clear that if were were to reclaim the way we chose to celebrate Christmas, we needed to create meaningful Christ-centered traditions. We were approaching Christmas 1986. We had four children, our youngest was just a year old.
In the end, we hit on a plan. We agreed to give Christmas Day to Santa Clause, but we reserved Christmas Eve for the Saviour. I wanted Christmas EVE to BE about Him. We wanted to talk about him and imagine the night of his birth. I realize that many families re-enact the nativity, but that wasn’t ‘us‘. We needed something that worked for us.
We talked about what kind of dinner Mary and Joseph might have had during their travels and after they arrived in Bethlehem. Research resources were not what they are now, but it seemed reasonable that their meal was very simple, and humble.
There was likely cheese. And undoubtedly bread. Flat bread. Perhaps figs or dates if they were lucky. Or dried fish. More than likely they would have drank water from a well or fresh wine / which wouldn’t have been much more than grape juice. It was probable that during their stay in Bethlehem they may have acquired mutton from time to time . . . . After dark, their only light would have been from candles or small lamps.
A picture began forming.
We envisioned, and then planned out our meal. It would be a simple one of white cheese with homemade flat bread, and grape juice. By candlelight. . . Preparing it was a family event. Making the bread. Cutting the cheese. Making the juice. Then we lit the candles and turned off the lights. Low light often reduces volume, and quiet discussion allows for tender feelings to be expressed. These are things we discovered while eating bread and cheese in the soft light of candles.
We have eaten bread and cheese by candlelight every Christmas Eve since 1986. There were years that were lean and cheese was expensive so there was less of it. In those years, we put homemade jam on the table. There were other years of plenty that saw fish and olives on the table. Other foods have been added from time to time. Figs. Dates. Pomegranates have become a personal favourite of mine. Oranges. More varieties of cheese. But always homemade flatbread. Always white cheese. Always purple grape juice. The grape juice has become our own, from our own purple grapes – saved for this meal.
It has become our most favourite Christmas tradition of all. One that we have maintained for over three decades. Half of my life. It is a delight to us to watch our children carry it on in their own homes with their children, and to hear that it remains their favourite tradition.
When does Santa get his time?
When the meal is over and cleaned up, and stories have been shared, and songs have been sung, . . . When guests have left, teeth have been brushed, . . . then we gather into the family room and Dan reads a favourite poem that we all know by heart but we listen to him anyway –
“Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care
In the hopes that St. Nickolaus soon would be there ….. “
I’ll admit it gets a little animated. And for families who normally don’t role-play, or do charades, kid after kid has always wanted a chance to portray the “plump, jolly old elf with a broad face and a little round belly, that shook, when he laughs like a bowlful of jelly.”
We owe a lot to Clement C. Moore – it is his description we rely on when we visualize Santa Claus. And he should know, because he spied him in his very own parlour all those years ago. I am grateful he took the time to write his experience down so that all of us might benefit.
I have come to love Santa Claus – and all he represents to me. I no longer quarrel with him. I am satisfied that he has done our family a great service in visiting us every Christmas Eve since that inaugural visit in 1982. We have felt his spirit as each of our children have discovered for themselves in their own time – who he really is, and what he really looks like, and WHAT HE DOES.
I think the tipping point for me in making that final decision all those years ago, was that I never felt the betrayal I’ve heard others speak of. Of course like others, I reached the age of doubting, but my mother always maintained that she believed. You could never get her to verbalize anything to the contrary. To this very day at over eighty years old, she still maintains that she believes in Santa Clause and always has. Because she always has, I always have, even though I wondered for a few years, whether I’d invite him into our lives as young parents.
One Christmas Eve when I was fourteen years old my older sister and I talked my mother into letting us help fill the stockings. Our Dad was working that night. We prevailed, and she allowed us into the inner sanctuary reserved for parents on Christmas Eve. The next morning I was shocked to wake up and still feel the magic. I confided to my mother that even though logically I understood, and for goodness sakes, had even filled the stockings, I couldn’t help it – I still “believed”! She never let me help again. Not even when I was seventeen years old and protested mightily. Not even after I was married. Until my own children hung their stockings, I was excluded from her private ritual. Although outwardly I rebelled, inwardly I always appreciated her refusal to give in. It kept the magic alive for me. And I have tried very hard to do the same for my kids.
In this house WE BELIEVE.
I’d love to hear how you incorporate your important family values into Christmas traditions. Please comment below.
Warmly,
Cindy Suelzle
“Who do you even call at midnight anyway? Where do I take the kids if we have to leave the house?” Of course this had to happen during the ONE night her husband was away from home. Figures! She called 911. They told her to get the kids up and get out of the house! She did. They all bundled up in the van. Four little sleepy-heads, not up for an adventure in the wee hours of the morning. Not much of an adventure anyway, when you’re stuck in car and all the action is going on in the house. But there WAS a firetruck! And the firemen WERE wearing masks. And all those things helped to make the adventure a little more “fun”. “Fun” bytheway, is all in the eyes of the beholder. 
And I wasn’t feeling well most days. Funny why I suspected that.
How could he possibly have known what it meant to find the rusted out chimney? The image to the left is not our old furnace, but it is the nearest image I could find to illustrate it. At a certain point a metal pipe exhausts into the brick chimney. When Dan touched it to check the join, it crumbled in his hand – screaming the horrible truth that the air that should have been leaving the house for all these months, had in fact been staying in the house.
A wise man named Jeffrey R. Holland told me that in a talk I heard years later, and I knew when I heard it that it was true. I already had a testimony of it, but the truth of what he said resonated in my heart again as if he spoke directly to ME. I knew that we had been warned weeks before that night when I first formed the words “carbon monoxide“. I didn’t even fully comprehend what carbon monoxide was, but the words were meaningful to me nonetheless. We had been warned repeatedly in various ways, right up till that very night – when we “luckily” decided to get-the-job-of-unpacking-done before retiring for a well deserved winter’s sleep. I really, truly believe that. And I thank my Heavenly Father for tender mercies. I thank Him for allowing two other children to join our family in the years following that night, and for allowing our original three children and their new brothers to grow to adulthood and have children of their own. I thank Him for paying attention to us, for watching over us. And I thank Him for guardian angels.
Carbon Monoxide is a silent, invisible, odourless, ruthless killer. It is a gas formed by incomplete combustion of carbon. Although our homes and furnaces are considerably better than they used to be, CM still claims victims every year – especially in the winter time.
hen you’re in a place where you see someone who might need a kind word or wave, or even more – simply ask yourself – “WHO IS THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN THIS ROOM?” I cannot tell you how much that has helped me be a better person and get over myself for the moment. Thank-you Michael.
In fact, we suspected it may have stopped working the day before. We had been out most of the day and went to bed as soon as we got home. Upon reflection it did seem a little chilly to me. . . . . . Could have been off a good 24 hours before we discovered it. Sheesh! Its November in Edmonton! You don’t get along for too long without a dependable heat source!
We did considerable research before choosing one, and we had it installed in our basement that November. It became a major part of our Christmas that year. We opted for a free standing woodstove that had a flat top upon which we could boil water and perhaps even cook a meal if needed. We positioned it to be on the other side of the wall of a 250 gallon water tank which stands in the adjoining laundry room. No mistake on the positioning of it. Having 250 gallons of clean water is a wonderful thing, but losing heat in an Edmonton winter could freeze that water, and turn a very good thing – VERY bad. That was a major concern of ours, and we deliberated upon how to prevent potential freezing in the event of heat loss. The wood stove would serve a dual purpose. Heat the basement, and prevent the water from freezing.
So we purchased a few cords of clean-burning wood and stored it in our backyard. We have a stash close to the back door, and we have a bin in the basement close to the stove. We keep kindling nearby, and of course matches. We learned the trick of lighting a fire in a wood burning stove when the outside chimney is 40 below zero. If you think that isn’t important, then you have never tried it. Cold air in the chimney makes it impossible for lighter warm air to rise above it. The result? A smoked out house that takes weeks to get the smoke smell out. Don’t ask me how I know this.
* Good thing – we have a gas fireplace upstairs. We turned it on as soon as we realized we had no other heat. We also have a wood stove in the basement. Dan lit the fire right away and added some logs to it.
but it was usually too early and a late spring frost or big wind or something else we couldn’t control would eliminate any serious promise of the blossoms fruiting out. Until one year. The stars all lined up I guess. Beautiful blossoms. No late frost. No big wind. We were surprised to see cute little green apricots form. Still we had no expectations out of them. No sense putting our hope in unrealistic places. …. But they continued to grow, and they ripened into that beautiful apricot-orange we’re so familiar with. Being the eternal skeptics, we figured they’d be lousy because … well, EDMONTON! Hello! You don’t grow apricots in Edmonton.
(from beta-carotene). When my kids were little, dried apricots were a real treat, and apricot nectar (though pricey) was the fruit juice that I bought for whoever happened to be sick at any given time. The sick person got to drink a whole container apricot nectar all to themselves. It was their special food-medicine because it is so rich in infection fighting and immune enhancing vitamins A and C as well as minerals and so many antioxidants that are known to fight free radicals in the body, and protect us from disease. When appetite is minimal anyway, it never made any sense wasting it on anything that wasn’t going to help heal.
For eleven months of the year, I choose to eat FREEZE DRIED Apricots. After tree-ripened ‘FRESH’ – which lets face it, doesn’t happen too often in Alberta, freeze dried is the MOST nutritious source of apricots. Of course nutrition is optimised when care and attention are given to the ‘quickness’ of the process, ensuring fruit was tree-ripened and that time between harvest and flash freezing is measured in hours rather than days. Although the method of freeze drying is standard, the care of beginning with the best possible fruit varies from company to company. There are many different brands of Freeze Dried fruits. Do your investigation and find the one that guarantees best nutrition. A good source of freeze dried apricots could yield up to 95% of the original food value. And bonus: if packed properly in an oxygen free can, the shelf life could exceed twenty five years. This is a pretty impressive and stable way to keep apricots on hand for everyday use all year long.
Pineapples – those wonderful tropical fruits that are so gorgeously delicious – are even more nutritious than you may have believed. I live in Canada, so the pineapple I grew up on was the same as what my parents had available – canned. Dole or Del Monte. We thought that was delicious enough – imagine my delight when I discovered “fresh” pineapple in the produce department when I was all grown up and buying my own groceries! Oh My!
We all know that fruits and vegetables are at their peak of perfection in every way – including nutritionally when they are picked fully ripe – having ripened ON the plant. Harvesting before ripe means of course that the nutrients have not had a chance to fully develop, and so are sadly lacking right from the beginning. Since fruits like pineapples and bananas have to travel half way across the world to reach us, taking two to three weeks minimally before we see them on the grocery store shelf we cannot hope to have them picked ripe. But wait a minute, must they always be less than they should be for those of us who don’t live in tropical countries?
Most fruits and vegetables are an excellent source of dietary fibre, and pineapple is particularly fibrous – which is essential in keeping our intestines clean and healthy. But pineapple is also known as a wonderful source of digestive enzymes, perhaps the most important one being BROMELAIN, an enzyme that breaks down protein, being particularly beneficial in aiding in digestion.
Since it is so perishable, it was not only a rarity in the early days, but many attempts have been made over the centuries to preserve it so that those of us not living in tropical climates can enjoy it. For centuries it was glazed in a sugar coating and dried as a luxurious treat for those who could afford it.
Although the process of 
This tough, leafy green is loaded with vitamins A, C and K as well as immune-system booster beta carotene and bone-building calcium. It is a virtual powerhouse of antioxidants as well as having anti-inflammatory and anti-cancer properties. We all know ‘raw and fresh’ is best, so add it into a coleslaw. But don’t stop there. Lightly saute it with olive oil and red wine vinegar, just till the colour is that gorgeous bright green and it becomes tender to the fork. Add Kale to stir fries, omelettes and many other vegetable-friendly dishes toward the end of the cooking process. Think outside the box. Be creative.
Sprouted in nature and packed with nutrients, 
Broccoli is probably the best known and most commonly used cruciferous vegetable in Canada and the United States, but make no mistake broccoli is not to be underestimated. There is nothing ‘common’ about it.
Over the last decade our the “stake” I belong to has been conducting an annual large-scale Food Drive that has grown from the efforts of a single congregation in 2009, to include all five stakes in the greater Edmonton area as well as surrounding communities. This Food Drive collects donations to provide our local Food Banks with essentials to feed those in need who visit them. It has become a major player in the overall collection of sufficient food. Every out-of-Edmonton congregation who participates, collects for their local Food Bank.
This brings me up to yesterday. I had been working within our stake for months, coordinating efforts of the wards to motivate and enthuse their members to save the date and get involved as volunteers. Some had organized field trips to the Food Bank to provide their members with context and a personal connection for it. Some had spoken in church and born testimony of the meaningful service we were engaged in. All had been regularly announcing and building up enthusiasm. All had coordinated routes and in the weeks prior to the Food Drive, assigned routes to volunteer families. This is a project that our local stake leaders in consultation with each other, had agreed would not only be of great benefit to our community, but would also be one within which the members of our congregations could experience meaningful selfless service. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints are all about meaningful, selfless service, so it was a perfect fit.
In the end – we FILLED all 24 of the bins in that trailer. First time ever!
There were some donations that were so incredibly generous we shook our heads in disbelief when we heard the stories. Truly there are those who have tender experience with the Food Bank and who for their own personal reasons – give so generously. At the time of this writing, Canadians are preparing to celebrate “Thanksgiving”. That one time in the year that we really do pause and reflect on the blessings that are ours. We count them one by one, and express gratitude to the source of all those blessings. The significance of the blending of these two great occasions is not lost on me.