Do You hear What I Hear- The sound of Christmas

When I think about holiday traditions, and memories of Christmas past I think about my Gran’s live tree with all of the handmade ornaments made by children and grandchildren over decades. I think of Christmas trees made with fishing net found on the beach and decorated with coral and shells. I think of Luminaries lining the arroyo to the beach. Most of all I think of Music.

In some of my earliest holiday memories- mostly at my Gran’s house- There was always Christmas music on the record player. Starting after Thanksgiving, she would play Christmas music while she napped. She taught me how to change the records or start them again on that giant turntable she had. I knew all the words to all the Bing Crosby and Nat King Cole Christmas carols by heart.

I remember a time when my mom and a large group of friends and neighbors gathered to walk through the canyon Christmas caroling. I’ll always remember that night, although I was very young, and the details are a little blurred around the edges. What I do remember was Hot Chocolate and a bottle of peppermint Schnapps making the rounds, and at the end of the night a discussion of what exactly Figgy Pudding is.

Some of my most favorite Christmas carol memories though are the ones from around a campfire in Bahia Kino. Our nontraditional holidays in Mexico were unique; each year the ‘tree’ was made from something scavenged- Saguaro ribs, fishing net, mesquite branches. We used paper bags filled with beach sand and candles the make luminaries in place of Christmas lights. We roasted our turkey in a hole in the ground, and the adults drank special edition Feliz Navidad beer…with poinsettias on the label which was as close to traditional holiday decor as we were going to get. But the constant were the Christmas carols sung around the campfire. When Roberta Vaughn would bring her guitar we had accompaniment, and when she didn’t we sane A Capella. But we always sang.

I had been gifted a book of Christmas carols that made the trip each year, all of which I knew by heart….right down to the 12 days of Christmas. There was always something peaceful and beautiful about the sounds of voices singing over the sound of waves crashing. But more than that, for a little girl who loved the tradition of Christmas, the pretty green tree covered in ornaments, bowls of Christmas candy ribbons, the smell of Christmas treats…holiday carols were a constant, and became a tradition of their own.

So to this day, starting at Thanksgiving, it is Christmas carols in the car, and Christmas carols in the house. I know my boys get sick of hearing some of the same ones, but they are comforting in the memories they invoke, and are part of my personal tradition that reminds me of the beauty and uniqueness of the nontraditional holiday traditions I am grateful that I had.

I hope that when my boys are older, they too feel the sense of nostalgia for the Christmas Carols that I learned to love from my dear Old Gran’s turntable. I hope they are reminded of the traditions of our home, which while different from those I grew up with in a Volkswagon on the beach, are filled with just as much love.