Mom’s short stories: Christmas in the Philippines, 1940s-60s
And the gift of doin' nuthin'
“We didn’t have presents!” Mom would emphasize it each time we talk about the holidays. Over the past few weeks, mom and I chatted on the phone, and I’d ask questions as she remembered the details of Christmases from 70ish years ago, where the highlight of this holiday was a simple tradition – visit neighbors and sing Christmas carols. She’d recall the types of candies or rice cake treats she received going door to door and I was in awe of the simplicity, the beauty of the little treasures, because that’s all we need as kids. It’s during this time that I quickly forget, and also remember, nothing needs to be fancy for a child, just a touch of wonder (well, maybe sometimes, sugar).
I’ve heard mom’s Christmas stories so many times as a kid, likely rolling my eyes in reference to how us Americans got toys and how, back then, they got none, nor did they need them. Isn’t it funny when you hear the same stories as an adult, they are now meaningful? Isn’t it a shame that we often “get it” way later as adults, that lesson or moral our parents tried to teach us, but our brains were never mature enough to feel the gravity of it?
I’ve enjoyed talking to mom, who recalled the days when Christmas was simpler, a celebration of Jesus’ birth. How they’d spend time together going to church as a family. They didn’t shop for gifts, wait for Santa, put up a Christmas tree or line their homes with lights (remember, mom didn’t have electricity until she left for college). I love that when I ask my mom about something from her childhood, it gives her an excuse to walk down memory lane with her siblings, prompting conversations and phone calls between brothers and sisters, all here in the US now. As the first born, her recollections were often different because memories are varied and our experiences are different based on when we were born, the order we land in the family.
When mom went caroling, they’d sing Christmas carols in English, never in Ilocano, her first language and dialect of her region.
“I knew them all,” mom wrote to me in a text. The big hits like Silent Night, Jingle Bells, White Christmas, Joy to the World, O Holy Night. “Some kids didn’t know how to speak English, or what these words meant, but they knew these songs,” she said to me, laughing about the children who didn’t understand but never questioned the ritual. In her days, carolers received treats of gratitude in exchange for Christmas tunes. Each house would give carolers various sweets made with rice, called tupig, suman, inkiwar, and binallay. These were also the desserts of my childhood. Growing up, we didn’t eat cake at parties. Instead, we were surrounded by tables stacked with these sweet and sticky desserts — my mouth is currently watering for the taste of home.
When her brother went caroling, who is11 years younger, songs and lyrics had evolved. He remembers singing Ilocano Christmas carols. While the tradition of passing around rice-based sweet treats continued, homes would sometimes hand out money. With higher rewards, carolers stepped up their game and had singing strategies. My uncle remembers spotting “rich” houses and so the group would split up into 2 or more. My aunts and uncles would arrive at these homes in more groups, pretend they weren’t part of the last set of carolers, and hope for more cash and candies. Genius in my book!
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I will take a take page from mom’s childhood and go for simplicity, especially over the next few weeks as I spend more time with my family.
This Christmas, I’m going to try my hardest to give myself the greatest gift of doing less. My daughter’s teacher wrote this in her weekly newsletter and I read it several times because I loved it:
“My wish for you this holiday break is simplicity and trusting that less is more.”
Next week I will not write a post. Eh, who knows if I skip the next week, too! Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it and, if you don’t, I hope you get some restful time to yourself, or with friends, family.
Unpack the holiday gift of doing less with me:
Take a walk, fast, or slow, or medium speed, whatever you’re feeling! Without your phone.
Have a meal, with your family, your friends, your pets, or by yourself. Without your phone.
Take a shower or bath. Without your phone.
Cook a meal. Or pop microwavable popcorn. You might need your phone if you’re looking at a recipe. Or cook a meal you’ve already mastered so you don’t need to look at your phone.
Read a book you already own.
Go outside, lay on your back, and look up. You better not have that phone on you!
Snuggle up on the couch or bed and watch a movie.
Get on a mat, get stretchy, say positive things to yourself, and hang out with you. I did this online yoga class yesterday in honor of our shortest day of the year. I love Kassandra’s videos and she created this practice for today, “honoring darkness, honoring stillness, and creating space to pause and do nothing, or do a lot less.” So many women are speaking to me!
P.S. Someone sent us 5 pounds of See’s Candies but it arrived without a card. Thank you! But also, was this a cruel joke for the the couple who have a PhD in indulgence?!?!?! There are 2 layers of chocolates! I ate 5 in one sitting!
