Christmas Memories
I was born in 1933 – a vintage year –
well I’m not sure about that – Hitler came to power in Germany on
January 30th 1933. On a lighter note the Loch Ness Monster was first
photographed by Hugh Gray; on an even more lighter note the first
two-piece women’s bathing costume was introduced in 1933. Of course, I
couldn’t remember any of these amazing facts at that time.
What I do remember is that five years
later being in hospital over Christmas 1938 recovering from a nasty
mastoid operation. Hospitals then were less technically sophisticated
than today, although they didn’t suffer from MRSE. After all in 1938,
Florence Nightingale had been dead only 28 years and her influence was
still felt. Nurses then wore white and blue with an astonishing cap on
their head, though not as intimidating as that of the matron who often
lived up to her dragon-type image. However they were very kind and
tried to make us children, unfortunate to be in hospital over
Christmas, as happy as possible. The Disney film, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs had
only just been released and the staff had created a marvellous tableau
of the eponymous characters at the end of the ward. Also my parents had
brought in a present of a model policeman which was filled with
chocolates. As you would guess, these were rapidly shared around the
ward. Yes I would rather have met Father Christmas at home, but they
did their best to create for us sick kids a time of Christmas magic.
What I nor any of the children, nor most of the adults didn’t realise
at the time was that, not all that many miles away on continental
Europe, Hitler and the National Socialists were hounding the Jews and
others, seizing their homes and property and eventually sending them,
in their thousands to certain death in the concentration camps – Dachau
was actually set up in 1933. We children were in bliss, whilst others
were facing hell.
This reflects an ancient fact which
is central to the Christmas Story of Jesus’ Birth. Although rather
uncomfortable for Mary it was a moment of wonder in Bethlehem
when rough shepherds and sophisticated kings arrived to do obeisance to
the Christ-child. This a scene enacted in a thousand nativity plays
over the world and to the sound of carols like ‘Away in a manger’.
This is one side of that old story,
the other more sombre, much less happy is how, shortly, Mary and Joseph
with the baby had to flee from the murderous predations of a mad king
and his slaughter of the Innocents. It has been said that across the
cradle of Bethlehem fell the shadow of the Cross of Calvary. This child
was born to die for all the sins of humankind, including yours and
mine. Although His was the final victory in the resurrection, but as an
old gnarled American share-cropper once said to the late Allistair
Cooke (of Letter from America
fame), ‘There is no such thing as a free meal-ticket.’ A price has to
be paid for every good thing and the price of our true happiness was
paid, once for all, by the Man on the Cross. May this Christmas be for
you the happiest of all Christmasses by God’s gift of love for you by
this same Man on the Cross, but also gloriously risen.
Douglas Graham