I HAVE so many great memories of Christmas, especially during my childhood. We did not have much, but we were contented with what we had with joy in our hearts. I invited some people to share their experiences of their most memorable Christmas. I reached out to some of my friends to find out what their fondest memories are at this time of year.

Cianna is from my hometown Bartica, and I saw her grow from a baby. I admire all the characters in her Christmas story.

“Christmas 1996 is the last I would say that left a lasting impression in my life. Breakfast is traditional garlic pork, pickle onion, or pepper pot with homemade bread or cakes from the night before. We usually decorated early because the family feast was most important. I remember my Grandmother Zita and Aunts Jackie and Minette in the kitchen with our traditional stuffed whole chicken, macaroni and cheese, potato salad, fruit salad, and raisin or vegetable rice.

My father came last, as usual, with my stepmother Sandra Sookdeo at the time.
Cousins galore as we were responsible for setting up the fruit salad with condensed milk and decoratively arranging the platters with garnish. But most important was a little corner that I use now for onion and garlic (smiling) with nuts, apples, grapes, and sweets (Cayenne bananas for grannie as they were her favourite, were always there).

We waited until sometimes two or three for my Grandfather, James Persaud, to come home to cut the chicken and for anyone to eat lunch.
It wasn’t a demand as anyone can eat at any time. I remember the smaller kids taking a small meal but for me. My food tasted better when he took it out. It was a time for everyone to put aside their differences for the day and eat together. Prayers first of course, because discipline was very high on my Grampie’s values, right next to “your word is your bond” and truth always comes out.

I remember wanting a football badly that year, but dad got me a chess set at the insistence of Aunty Sandra. I was disappointed on Christmas Day, but she assured me that a sharp mind is the best weapon for a girl.

I was my grandfather’s favourite and usually saved to buy my gifts. But that year, I got everyone something useful.

My disappointment didn’t slip with him when we opened gifts because I smiled and accepted graciously. He was like that, always observing.

My father taught me chess and I played by myself after that. But by the next day, ‘gramps’ got me two footballs (red and orange). I will never forget that sound of the ball (doof!) off of the concrete wall. He taught me to dodge, breathe and run. But most importantly, he taught me that day that you will fall hard but getting up is hardest.”

I went across to our southern Caribbean neighbour and Jamilia’s story about her father made me wish I had one of those father-daughter moments.

“My father and I were estranged for the first 17 years of my life. I didn’t know he existed or who he was because, as far as I knew, my stepfather was my father. When I finally met my dad, I learned so much about myself because, in so many ways, I was his mirror. We shared a love of travel, culture, and subculture.

Our first Christmas was an unwelcome adventure, for me at least. To have an epic Christmas with him, I flew from New York to Atlanta in the middle of a snowstorm. Amidst the flight delays and crowds of stranded passengers, I remember being afraid to board the plane and equally afraid that I won’t get a flight.
Magically I was the last to get on to the last connection to North Carolina, which meant that if I missed the last flight from North Carolina to Atlanta, I was stuck there for Christmas.

As I exited the plane and entered the Charlotte, North Carolina Airport, I was overwhelmed and sad. I was so angry because I was only able to see my father once a year after not having time with him for 17 years! I approached the airline representative forlorn and frustrated, expecting her to say, “Sorry, ma’am, the flight is booked up,” and she did. A million thoughts rushed through my head, why didn’t my father come to see me in New York? I love New York. He knows that. My thoughts were interrupted by the representative’s southern American accent. “Ma’am, great news, we were able to get you on this flight.” I was ecstatic!

I arrived in Atlanta at 11:00 pm that night, just in time for Christmas. It was the best Christmas ever! I realised, as is my father’s way, he curated something beautiful. My father planned a trip filled with visits to the Atlanta botanical gardens and deep conversations against the backdrop of Atlanta’s Peach Tree Street. We zipped around Atlanta on his Vesper, had the most amazing food, and drank impeccable wine. We shopped while my father updated me on the ‘scene’ in Atlanta and as always, he gave salient advice.

My father and I have had so many other adventures since then, Tokyo one September, Venice and Paris on New Year’s Day another year, and endless other jaunts around the United States of America. With every trip, I got to know him better and was present in who I am. Every piece of advice has been a building block in my character.

My father is no longer with us and I’m often reminded of our various adventures, all the wisdom he has imparted, and the impact of our first Christmas.”

I met father Andre Marie Aboudi in Abidjan and I am happy he shared an experience from that part of the world.

“I spent my first Christmas in a remote village near Ulaanbaatar City in Mongolia. With children well dressed and full of joy to receive gifts, one of them came closer to me and asked if I had seen Jesus and what his message was to the children of their village. I answered Jesus wants children to be happy and always friends with one another. Then he took one chocolate he received, gave it to me, and said this is my gift for Jesus and you.”

Sister Lucille Munchie also shared her story.

“My first Christmas in a non-Catholic country occurred on December 25, 2000, in Ulan Bator, Mongolia. Coming from a country where liturgically and socially, Christmas celebrations are very significant and largely celebrated, my first Christmas in Ulan Bator was relatively calm. The only external sign was that it snowed heavily, and everywhere was sparkling white. I enjoyed the snow cotton buds on the little pine trees on the streets, but the surroundings were tranquil. Towards 9:00 am, while I was walking to church, I started seeing people going to their different occupations. I arrived at the church with just a handful of foreigners and a few Mongolians. It was a beautiful celebration but nothing compared to my country. After the festival, I came home, and at this moment, it dawned on me that I was in a non-Catholic country and started appreciating a different way of celebrating Christmas from how I am used to celebrating. I have celebrated more than 18 Christmas in the same country and region. Christmas is, therefore, the celebration of joy.”

I met Professor Samuel Oheneba Dornyo in Ghana and we were seated at the same table when I received my award and we had the opportunity for great conversations. He shared an inspiring Christmas experience with us.

“Christmas is a time for joy, celebration, and creating special memories with loved ones. For me, having the best Christmas as a particularly memorable holiday means a lot as it marks another Christmas without my wife, who passed away 14 years ago. However, this is also the first Christmas that I celebrate with my newfound love and our combined family of six children.

On Christmas Eve, we attend a joyful gospel musical night at our church. The sound of uplifting music fills the air and brings a sense of peace and happiness to my heart. We sing carols and perform a variety of gospel numbers deep into the night, and it’s a truly uplifting and inspirational experience.

On Christmas Day, we gather at our church for a special celebration. The grilling of catfish and all the trimmings with various accompaniments – Banku, potato crisps, yam chips – takes place. We enjoyed this delicious feast together. It is a joy to be surrounded by church family always and to share in the festive spirit.

Lest I leave you in the dust, I am surprised at home celebrating my birthday with a special breakfast and homemade goodies – pies, pancakes, toast, oats, and custards for dessert – amidst the stylings of one saxophonist who, dare I say, could herald angels. My children and newfound love serenade me with my favourite songs with the most amazing voices and harmonies. I am grateful to have my new family by my side. We spend the rest of the day chatting and playing games, and it is a truly special and memorable occasion.

As the evening draws to a close, I can’t help but feel grateful for the love and support of my family, current and new. Despite the challenges and heartache of losing my wife, I am blessed to have found a woman who has joined me as a wife and mother to our children. She has brought joy and happiness into my life, and I am grateful for the special memories we have created together already this holiday season while looking forward to many more ahead!”

I lived in Barbados for five years but only spent two Christmases there. It is nice to get a perspective from Barbados and my friend Kofi.
Here is one last story from him:
“Christmas for me growing up in Barbados was filled with family tradition.

My grandmother is old-school and she picked down the entire house and cleaned every drawer, every knob and every crevice. Then on Christmas Eve, we were on the timer; everything had the be fixed and in place by 9:00 pm so that we could all get ready for Midnight Mass. Our entire family attended church and it was a wonderful feeling.

The most exhilarating feeling though was waking up on Christmas morning to the smell of ham, turkey and fruit cake. Our family is large, so the gifts formed a mini mountain under the Christmas tree and everyone was smiling and happy.

Just as the house was refreshed for Christmas…. our spirits were refreshed, our family spirits were rejuvenated and we were ready to take on the upcoming year.”

May God grant us what he desires for us this Christmas. Let’s remember the reason for the season as we continue to celebrate this beautiful journal called life BEYOND THE RUNWAY.