It's the most wonderful time of the year!
With the hearts that are glowing
And the happy Ho-Ho-ing
And mulled wine and cheer!
It'[s the most wonderful time of the year!
Christmas really is the most wonderful time of the year for me. It’s so magical
and wonderful watching the lights on the tree, eating all the mince pies in the
world, wrapping gifts all nice and happy. I love nativity plays and carol
services. Once at school I got to play the part of Baboushka in the Christmas
nativity play. She isn’t mentioned in the Bible and is often forgotten but I
think she probably was real and important. I had to sing a song about being
Baboushka and sweep the stage with a witch’s broom.
Advent was also a very exciting time for me. My mum made us
an advent calendar with little pockets for chocolates to go in. It’s the only
time of the year you’re allowed to eat chocolate in the morning you know. One
year we had an advent candle. Turned out to be a bit of a nuisance actually. We
had to keep lighting it and waiting for it to burn the last 4 days away from
when we’d forgotten. Our impatience took the advent magic away a bit.
On Christmas Eve, when I was a small Hannan, me and my
sister would watch The Snowman (remember that documentary I wrote about last
time, about the snowman that abducts that boy? Click here to read about snowtimes…) and then maybe the Crystal Maze or Gladiators and then it would be time
for bed. We would be too excited to sleep, obviously, so me ol’ Mum would drip
lavender oil onto the pillow to make us all sleepy-tired and we’d drift off to
dream land. I got a tiny bit freaked out when I thought properly about what
Christmas Eve entailed. I knew in my mind that Father Christmas couldn’t get
down our chimney (it’s a gas fire) and the idea of him creeping up the stairs
and into my room really unnerved me but no-one else seemed concerned so I just
pushed my fears down into the part of my brain no-one knows about and tried to
sleep. That’s the healthy response to fear I think.
Oh but it was so exciting to peep our eyes open in the
morning and see our stockings full of presents! We’d run into our parent’s room
screaming “HE’S BEEN! HE’S BEEN!” and open our gifts with glee. As we grew
older, the gifts became more practical until 2 years ago I basically received
sensible underwear and stationary. Didn’t have go to Paperchase for 4 months,
it was great!
I love giving presents. A couple of years ago, I bought my
sister the best present; a book called Awkward Family photos. I knew she would
love it because we are that family, awkward in photos, with a hundred cringey
stories of our history. Anyway, she handed me my present and I opened it. It
was exactly the same book… Inside I was laughing my face away but on the
exterior acted all cool as a Christmas Tree and accepted it with surprise and
joy. “Ohhh! I haven’t seen this before. Ever! Oh HOW funny! I cannot WAIT to
read it!” *Pretend to read the blurb and flick through while casually handing
her my present…* Best reaction ever.
Growing up, Christmas day would always involve having
someone over for the day as an act of goodwill and love. Sometimes my Mum would
invite random students home from church, or a local couple with no family, or a
random man from the bus, or whatever. Our house was so warm and open and
welcoming. So welcoming in fact that one year a long-lost cousin from New
Zealand rocked up without warning and spent the day with us!
I remember the first Christmas it was just me, Mum, Dad and
Jess. It felt weird. Like Sunday lunch but a bit fancy. It was like getting
into a party frock and then going to Asda. Not that Christmas wasn’t glam that
year, it’s always super special. It just felt weird not having strangers
sharing it with us!
Last year was the first year I spent Christmas day with The
Boy and it was mega special. I screamed “HE’S BEEN!” in his ear’ole and made
him take it in turns to open presents from our stockings! I sewed the stockings
myself like an old fashioned house wife and they are well good. When we were
having Christmas dinner at my parent’s house in Preston it was The Boy’s job to
open the champagne. He popped the cork and suddenly noticed that the fizz was
rising up. He tried to stop the fizz coming out by putting the cork on top of
the bottle but this made it all worse and he sprayed the whole room with a disc
of bubbly, like when you put your thumb over the end of the hose and the water
goes crazy all over the place. It went all on his face and our faces and into
the apple sauce and on the Christmas tree…
This year my Dad is
in charge of opening bottles…
Have a Merry Christmas and remember Baby Jesus while you sit
in front of your Christmas Tree, singing Cliff Richard and smiling with love.
He’s the reason for the season! (Baby Jesus, not Cliff Richard…)
Love Hannan xoxo
