Well, Pacific Grove has lost the coveted “Shoe” (temporarily), but it sure won’t lose Christmas. After all, Christmas was made for Pacific Grove, and Pacific Grove was made for Christmas. Actually, some theology in that. But never mind, and, oh, the Breakers will beat Carmel in football (sometime) and bring the “Shoe” trophy back.
Christmas is, among many things, anticipation! Not only sugar plums, and all that, but everything else. Along with anticipation, expectation, and even without fulfillment, satisfaction. Nobody looked forward to Christmas more than Mom. She would start working on it in August, and at the same time complained that the stores started way too early, right after Thanksgiving, and some right after Halloween. And no matter how much Mom loved Christmas (also her birthday), she said her favorite day of the year was December 26. Not only that, my grandmother Bowhay, was also born on Christmas Day, in a covered wagon in the middle of the Kings River. How’s that for reality TV!
I suppose we can all remember Christmases, both good and not so good, the shortcomings of our parents and those that stretched beyond sense, to show the kids how much they were loved. In Pacific Grove, there was no rich or poor, but tough, the day after vacation … What did you get? What did you get! Skates, a scooter, an electric train, maybe a bike! And then a kid a said, “A real nice sweater!” and then his little sister, Don’t forget the nice orange in the Christmas stocking! And some nuts!
There may be a few disappointments this Christmas — all wishes not fulfilled — but years later, we remember the things we got, not so much the things we didn’t. The old saying, still true, better to want the things you have than have the things you want … or something like that.
I think it was the old New England heritage and tradition that gave P.G. those special Christmases. We had to imagine cold New Hampshire weather, but lots of holly, pine, cedar, and carols chimed from City Hall.
The box of decorations, generations old, and the school made ornaments from just last year, looked just right on the nice little Monterey Pine. Strings of popcorn, too many seasons old, trashed in favor of new ones. The lead icicles, packed last year in a hurry, now a mess, tossed. Be more careful this year. The crèches with Baby Jesus, Mother and Father, the Wise Men, and a collection of animals, all around the manger on the mantle over the fire place. My sister-in-law Judy’s father, in many later years, made beautiful little electric lighted mangers, pre holiday gifts. Unfortunately they had a tendency to short circuit and burn.
Most of the churches had pageants with beautiful Marys, of many different ages. The perfect Christmas choir, maybe thirty singers, stood and caroled on a wooden platform tree, 20-feet high, on a vacant lot, corner of Fountain and Pine … I think.
While the churches were the soul of the season, celebrating the Christ Child, the heart of it all was Holman’s. It seemed like home to us, a magical place where we grew up. It smelled good, and sounded like the season, Santa on the mezzanine, behind the electric trains and next to the dolls. Kids lined up, runny noses, moms with handkerchiefs, and kids who didn’t know any better, thinking Santa might be God, or even Mr. Holman. Well, the Christmas soul left Holman’s a long time ago, but look, look. Here’s Christmas again! Snow in the park, Christmas Tree Lighting and, wow, the Holiday Parade of Lights with a marching band, horses, floats, dance teams, and Santa. Parties and celebrations, free candy canes, welcome at the Inns, and the real capper, Candy Cane Lane, the most spectacular set of decorations west of Maine.
Through this all, I remember Aunt Flora reminding me that “It’s better to give than to receive.” Sure, we all know that, and didn’t we drop five bucks in the Salvation Army Kettle? Well, as always, there are a lot of people out there that can use a hand, a bite to eat, and a warm place to sleep. Remember the old advice, “Don’t give till it hurts. Give till it feels good!” Give your kids a really good Christmas, give them a memory to cherish, but also explain that instead of that extra video game, you helped somebody – with their name on the card – and that somebody might not even say thanks, but the Baby Jesus will. And to all, a Good Night!
Phil Bowhay is a Carmel writer. He can be reached at pbowhay@aol.com.
