take me back so many years ...

My first thoughts are of the old fireplace in the living room, logs of oak and pine crackling, as we sat near the hearth, trying to keep warm.  The ceilings were tall, making the rooms hard to heat but, somehow, we managed to stay warm by constantly turning, warming the frontside or the backside.  We'd often pop up lots of popcorn in that old fireplace, using a long-handled tin popper held over the fire.  The aroma of the freshly cut cedar tree filled the air as the tree stood waiting in the corner, ready to be decorated. 

The first Christmas of remembrance was in 1945, as WWII came to a close.  I was a bit over three years old.

The previous year my daddy had wired together some electric lights, hand painting each bulb a different color, to place upon our Christmas tree. 

Mama had crocheted a pink and blue hooded shawl for my doll, given to me, along with a doll buggy, by a friend of Mama's.  I called Mama's friend Aunt Sue and named my doll after her.  Sue was always my favorite doll, with a cloth body and composite face, arms and legs.  I remember spending many happy days with Sue and making hand-sewn doll clothes for her.

By next Christmas, Daddy had purchased a 10-acre farm out in the country and we had no electricity to plug in the Christmas lights; but Mama and I strung them on the tree anyway, as she told me the story of Daddy making them for our Christmas of 1944.  They were crudely wired and taped together, with bits of paint chipped off, but I loved them anyway, probably because of the great love I had for my daddy.  She told me the story as, we, so carefully, placed each beautiful lead icicle, strand by strand, upon the tree.

That year, another friend of Mama's, Aunt Maude, gave me a Nativity scene ... a cardboard manger with chalkware figurines.  So beautiful, I thought ... and that same manger has remained a focal point of each Christmas day since.  Although tattered and chipped, I still believe it's the most beautiful Nativity I've ever seen. 

I remember staying at my Granddaddy Cullen's house for Christmas one year.  I ate too many goodies and had an upset tummy, while Granddaddy's wife, whom we called Aunt Uralee, gave me a dose of whiskey and honey, always a stand-by in those days.  Just the smell of it made me vow to never drink that awful tasting stuff again!  I recall asking over and over how Santa Claus would get in the house, since they had no fireplace.  Aunt Uralee said he would come through the front door and she left it unlocked for him before going to bed that night.

As Granddaddy Cullen died when I was seven years old and my daddy's parents passed on long before I was born, our Christmases were usually spent at home, with aunts, uncles and cousins always visiting us on Christmas day.

Most years we had a baked hen and cornbread dressing.  Some years, if we were fortunate, we had duck or a ham, but usually the ham was saved for New Year's Eve.  Our big New Year's dinner was usually held on the Eve, with close friends invited to share the feast.  Sometimes Mama would make a spicy chicken stew for our friends.

The cornbread dressing was always made in the long, grey speckled enamel pan.  There were sweet potatoes, mince-meat pie and pumpkin pie.  Sweet iced tea was always plentiful.

Mama and Daddy always gave me money to buy them a Christmas present and I learned the joy of giving when I was very small.  One year when we had moved into town, I was told I could spend one dollar on each of them, by buying on credit from our local grocery store.  All by myself, I walked a few blocks to the store and picked out a dresser set for Mama and a blue and white silk tie for Daddy.  The tie had a snow scene with sled and horses on it and I thought it was the most beautiful tie I'd ever seen.  In 1971, I buried my daddy wearing that tie and I still have the silver plated hand mirror I bought for Mama, adorning my dressing table.

We'd moved back to the farm for a short while and I was beginning to have uncertainties about Santa Claus.  After opening our presents that morning, we were eating our dinner when, quite suddenly, Mama got up and went into the living room.  After a bit, she came back into the kitchen and said she thought she'd heard a noise in the living room and told me that I should go see ... that perhaps Santa had come again!  On the back of the sofa sat twin dolls, who were named Pete and Repeat.  I had great suspicions that Mama had put those dolls there but I didn't want to disappoint her or Daddy, so I went along with the story.  How vivid that scene is still in my mind today!

Christmas is about baby Jesus and His father's love for us ...

Christmas is about loving one another and sharing gifts with those we love ...

Christmas is about sharing with those less fortunate ...

Christmas is about precious memories ...

And those memories are forever etched in my mind ...

Cook celery, green peppers and onion in hot oil until tender.  Drain well.  Stir in ham, mushrooms, cheese, flour and pepper.

Lightly brush some of the butter and sprinkle 1/2 teaspoon of the bread crumbs between each phyllo sheet, stacking sheets.  Brush the top sheet with beaten egg white.

Mound ham mixture on phyllo dough stack, parallel to and about 3 inches from one of the shorter (14" side) edges of the dough stack.

Fold the 3-inch edge of dough over the ham mixture.  Fold in about 1 and 1/2 inches on each of the longer sides (18" side).  Then roll up the dough stack, beginning with the short end, with the edges underneath.

Make shallow cuts in diagonal criss-cross fashion across the top.

Place roll in 13 x 9 x 2-inch pan.  Brush with more butter.  Cover and chill up to 24 hours.

When ready to serve, uncover and bake in 400 degree oven 25-30 minutes or until golden brown.

In small saucepan, combine cranberry-apple drink and cornstarch.  Add jellied cranberry sauce and dash of cloves.  Cook and stir until thickened and bubbly.  Cook and stir 2 more minutes.  Stir in butter until melted.