Christmas Angels
by
Anna McDonald
The first years of my life were spent in three milieus simultaneously. The first was in my home in which we spoke German with a Volga Russian dialect. In this home, Lutheran traditions were followed faithfully. My second milieu was the Lutheran church where we used the High German language and where I also learned how to read and write it. The third area was my neighbourhood where I played with children from many backgrounds; here I learned to speak English. With them I attended public school.
And so it was that my first recollection of Christmas is one that contains no memories of Santa Claus. It was the Christ Child that would come on Christmas Eve with a gift for every child. So as Christmas neared, this prayer was added to my evening prayers: "Krist Kindchen komm; mach mich fromm; Das ich mit dier in Himmel komm". Translated it means: "Christ Child come; make me pure and faithful that I may enter heaven with you." How happy we were when under the decorated Christmas tree we found our gift. One year it was even a gift I had to share with my younger sister, a doll carriage. But the prayer, as I reflect over my many years of living, was the greatest gift, the gift of having a life that was Christ-centered.
The other Christmas that stands out in my memory took place when I was nine years old. This was part of my church heritage. It was the year that the Sunday School had its first children's choir. My oldest sister was its assistant director. Now, all families of the church were from the working poor. It was the time of year when you got your one new dress. How these brave young teachers convinced the parents of eight children all to get the same white dress made, I do not know, but they did! The dresses looked so simple to make: just a straight top shirred at the neck, and sleeves with frills at the bottom. That was the tricky part. There were five pyramid-shaped tiers of eight graduated frills that circled the hem of the dress. The result was that many mothers came with the complaint: they just could not manage to sew those frills in place!
"Mom, please help these women so that we get these dresses finished for Christmas." Between all the baking of stollen, branicks, sweet breads, and taking care of a family of seven, my mother got those dresses ready for that angelic choir. Yes, I believe we must have looked like angels. We sang with the angels, I am sure, as we sang: "Kling, Clöckchen kling" (Ring, little bells, ring). It is a song that echoes that Christmas prayer of my childhood: "will drin wohnen frohlich, frommes Kind, wie selig" (will live in you, beautiful child how blessed). However, the angel I remember most when I look at that Christmas picture of my sister and myself is the angel I call Mother.