Today, there is a lot to be thankful for. December 25th – the birth of Jesus. This is a good place to begin. I have a few books on how the story of the birth of Jesus was taught.
My first book is “Curiosities of the Bible” by A New York Sunday School Superintendent, published in 1900. This is an interesting book on teaching the Bible to young kids.
The book goes into some detail about:
“Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, their came wise men from the east to Jerusalem, saying “Where is he that is born King of the Jews? For we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him.”
I also have “Bible Symbols or The Bible in Pictures” arranged by Martha Van Marter, published in 1904. This book was given to my father by his aunt Esther, when he was a child.
Using a few words, and a lot of pictures, the bible story was taught by studying the pictures.
Another way that the story of Jesus was told, was used in the book “Sand Table Illustrations” by Mrs. Alice Hill, published in 1923.
The author used a sand box of sorts, and set up displays before she gave her Sunday School class lectures. This was her example of the nativity.
Later, commercialism crept into the story of December 25th. I have a record album of Christmas songs, printed by Ronco Teleproducts, in 1974.
When you open the album up, there is a large popup of the Nativity scene. It could be used as a centerpiece on a table or stand. There are a lot of still religious songs on the album, but there are also some like “Santa Claus is Coming to Town”.
I also have “Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer” by Robert May, this copy printed 1967. The original story was printed in this 1939 booklet form for Montgomery Ward retail store, so it could give away promotions during Christmas. There has been more and more focus on Santa for December 25th. While my neighbor has plastic statues of Santa and Rudolph in her front yard, she also has a manger scene and a sign that says “Keep Christ in Christmas”.
December 25th is also the birthday of my sister. I want to wish her a wonderful Birthmas Day with the book “The Legend of the Poinsettia” retold by Tomie dePaola, 1994. Along with sharing a famous birthday, Sandy shares the love of Poinsettias-the Christmas flower.
On December 25th, Swedes would understand the repercussions if they did not leave a pat of butter on the porridge left out on the night of the 24th. A bowl of porridge was put on the table, not for Santa or St. Nicholas, but for a Tomte. Tomtar (plural of a Tomte) were small gnomes that looked over and protected farms, and especially horses in old Sweden. These tiny red-hatted creatures could be clever or mean, based on how they were treated. A Tomte expected that pat of butter treat. If he did not see the butter (let alone porridge) he would play cruel, sometimes dangerous tricks on the family. Some believe that a Tomte that looks over a farm, is the spirit of the first owner of the farm.
I have a book “Swedish Legends and Folktales” by John Lindow, published in 1978. There is much about Tomtar.
But more than that book, I finally had the expertise of my mother, when it came to a Tomte. She had never talked about Tomtar until one afternoon when we were visiting Bishop Hill, Illinois. Bishop Hill was an old Swedish settlement that kept Swedish Heritage. My mom did tell stories of how her father would take her to Bishop Hill when she was a child.
Her father was from Sweden, and still spoke Swedish, as did many of the town’s people of Bishop Hill. When Mom was taken there as a child, Her father conversed with other Swedes on status of family and friends in Europe during the war (WWII). By speaking in Swedish, they could get past the censors of what was happening. They would also go the the general store and bring home a bucket-full of pickled herring, dipped from a huge barrel of fish. This store sold everything, even had a long row of candy jars. Mom loved the rare visits with her dad to Bishop Hill, and that general store when she was little.
Mom would still occasionally visit Bishop Hill, and the general store. A while back, a very close friend of mine, became the manager of that store. I took Mom, and we went to see her, a week or so before Christmas. As we walked along the counters, Mom reminisced what had changed, or not changed in the building from the last seventy-five years or so. When we walked by a display of Tomtar gnomes, Mom smiled.
“Do you know about these?” asked Glenda, the new manager. “Of course!” replied my mom. “They’re real.” “In fact,” she pondered out loud, “I wonder what the Tomte thinks of the moves and changes in this place?” Glenda’s face turned white. “Every time I try to change something, I hear a big crash, and boxes in the attic have fallen over.” Mom smiled again. “They don’t like changes.”
On the drive home, I asked my mom more about Tomtar gnomes, and if she really believed in them-I had never heard her talk about a Tomte before. She told me, “Yes. Growing up, one looked out for us, or me on the farm. Lightning hit the farm house once, and started a fire in the attic. Something put the fire out, or at least slowed it, before we could get get up there. Where it located, it should have been getting stronger and hotter, but it was mostly snuffed out like by magic. We just put out some lingering smoldering wood.”
“And there were several times I was woke up from sleep when a horse was sick, or when a cow was giving birth and there were issues. I would never see anyone or hear anything, I was just suddenly awake. I would then get up and talk to my dad. He and I then went to the barn to see what was happening. Dad never questioned me why I sensed something was up, but he knew the old ways of Swedish farms and the Tomte. We just didn’t talk about it.”
I was amazed by Mom’s new stories about her dad, farming, and a Tomte gnome. She talked, and talked on the hour drive back from Bishop Hill. It was one of those moving moments that I wished could just keep on going. As fate would have it, that was the last Christmas with my Mom, she passed away the following fall. But what a Christmas-story present she gave me!
Merry Christmas. I hope this holiday is filled with love, laughter, and family memories. Thank you for reading.
Librarytomes 