I had intended to blog tonight about our family tradition of burning candles on Christmas Eve, and reading Lil Sis' blog served only to strengthen my resolve.
If I remember correctly the tradition began when I was quite young, so Lil Sis wasn't even a gleam in the old man's eye. Mom and Daddy had their own tradition of going out on Christmas Eve to visit friends, leaving the children at home. It sounds harsh and neglectful, but those were different times. We lived in the country where there was evidently no crime, never mind the fact that we lived next to Daddy's parents, so we could not have gotten into any trouble if we had wanted to. And don't get the wrong picture about our parents going out . . . it was very informal, no mink stoles and tuxes like you see in the movies. We were simple (poor) people. I think it might have just been an excuse for Daddy to get tipsy.
It is still incredible to me that we were able to pull off the candle burning thing. I have no idea where we got the money, how we got to the store to buy the candles, or how we had the nerve to actually burn the damn things. I can't remember ever in my life getting by with anything, so it is all unbelievable to me even now. The candles were usually in the shapes of animals or Christmas icons, and here again I am relying on my memory. It seems I had one in the shape of a grey cat one year. Nurse, Bo and I would wait until our parents left, then gather around some sort of low table and light our candles. Nurse (being the oldest) would read the Christmas story from the Bible, we would sing "Silent Night", blow out the candles, kiss each other good night and go to bed to wait for Santa Claus. This is my memory. Nurse might have a different one.
I'm not sure why we chose "Silent Night". Possibly because it was a song we could all sing at that stage in our lives. Like Lil Sis, sometimes I have a hard time getting through the whole song. On Christmas Eve this year I bought candles in the shapes of snowmen, Santa Claus and penguins dressed in their holiday best. I bought six: one for myself, one each for my son and his wife, one each for my granddaughter and grandson, and one for Bo. After we finished the ceremony, we all blew out our candles. My grandson thought it best that I blow out Bo's candle since he did not know him! My eyes were teary the whole time.
When we were still going to the cemetery to burn candles at Bo's grave, I remember one bitterly cold windy night when we had to re-light the candles many times. As we drove away, we looked back to see that all the candles had been blown out by the wind--all except three. It seemed to signify the original three of us burning candles alone on Christmas Eve all those years ago.
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