Granny's Pantry # 11
Certain holidays
were especially memorable at High Rock—hunting Easter eggs with the Aunts, the Thanksgiving
table groaning under the weight of its offerings, and Christmas—most especially
Christmas. Of all, it was my favorite ... my memories of those times color Christmas
in my home now.
The family
gathered for the dinner meal, my parents and siblings, Aunt Ruthie, Uncle
Brooks and his family, sometimes Great Aunt Mayme, Great Uncle Mose, and later
more family as we grew and multiplied. I remember a dark green table cloth and
salt cellars instead of shakers. Having dinner first was hard, but made “the
wait to open presents” more exciting. Granny’s cooking is legend and Christmas
dinner was a shining example. Meats and vegetables in the multiples, compotes
of ambrosia, and desserts to make a baker cry…coconut cake, pecan pie,
persimmon pudding…how anyone could work through that and come back for
leftovers a few hours later is a mystery.
The fireplace
mantle in the dining room held delicate white plastic deer—now vintage—and six
like them sit on my mantle as I write this. A red paper beehive fold out
Christmas bell hung in the front hall from the chandelier. It’s now fragile and
faded, and resting quietly in the chest upstairs…I may hang it in my house this
year.
Granny’s
Christmas trees were cedars…native to the area and difficult to decorate. I
didn’t know that then. I just remember her feathered birds that always managed
to hang upside down. I started collecting feathered birds as soon as I got
married.
Granny
presided
over the living room from her wing back chair to the left of the fire
place. The presents covered almost half of the floor. Opening gifts was
a wild free
for all. If my sister opened hers from Aunt Lorene first, I knew without
opening mine what I was getting. Aunt Mayme sometimes gave strange gifts
we
thought were strange. In reality I would recognize them today as vintage
keepers. She, the proverbial “old maid
school teacher,” handed out envelopes of money to all “mothers of sons” –much
to the offense of certain members of the gathering. 
Granny made our stockings from red corduroy or velveteen, decorated and monogrammed in her funny, chicken-scratch embroidery. They are an intimate part of Christmas to me, and I’ll use two of them this Christmas. At High Rock, our stockings held pecans and Brazil nuts, oranges, toothpaste and soap.
When the last
package was opened and the discarded paper and ribbon stuffed into bags bound
for disposal, Granny would always say, “Just leave it; I’ll go through it.” I
think she was making sure no one threw away something valuable by mistake.
Christmas at High
Rock gradually changed after Granny left us. Uncle Brooks, Aunt Lorene, Aunt
Mayme, Cousin Mose have all gone now, as has my sister, Janie. Aunt Ruthie is
with us but she struggles to find the home she lives in every day. We usually
take food and small gifts to have a quiet celebration with Ruthie and Mother,
Granny’s daughters. We’re finding new ways, too, to bring Christmas back to
High Rock. This year, we plan to gather across the Yadkin at Granny’s home
place we call The Cow Palace. My brother and a friend will decorate the old
house…his children will come, my sister’s family, my husband, children and
grandchildren, Mother, Aunt Ruthie, and whatever other family and friends can
be persuaded. We will eat, visit, pass out small gifts for the children and
renew Christmas tradition in the new High Rock fashion.
“There is a time for everything, and a
season for every activity under the heavens:”
Ecclesiastes 3:1
"...when the fulness of the time was come, God sent forth his Son..." Galatians 4:4
