Tag: Christmas

Phlox and Asters

It’s November now. The phlox and asters have long since ended their blooming season, and the time is fast approaching when the house will once again be filled with the heady scent of cardamom as Christmas bread rises and bakes. How the seasons swirl by, with one set of pleasure-to-the-senses melding into the next! One of my nieces asked me recently if I would be baking Christmas bread this year. “IF”?!?! It could hardly be Christmas if not!!! So, yes – of course!! And I can hardly wait to get started!

If you are among the fortunate souls who take great pleasure in the baking of homemade bread, you need no explanation for the joy it brings. If not, I will try to describe it as best I can.

It often begins with merely the delightful anticipation of the process itself! The gathering of the tools and ingredients, greasing of pans, seasoned to black from many years of use. Though my lovely black bread-tins are used only for our toast and sandwich bread, they are a precious treasure to me, handed down with love from my mama after her many years of baking for our family.

tins and sifter

My bread-board, too, is a treasure I have used for many years, built by my dad, well-used by my mom.

My “canister” for flour is immense: 11″ tall, 9+” in diameter, holds the 10lbs of flour I buy at a time throughout the year. 25lbs at Christmas time won’t fit all at once, but it doesn’t take long to get through it!! And my lovely bread bowl that only comes out for Christmas bread (I use my bread-mixer the rest of the year)

flour “canister,” bread bowl and wooden spoon
bread-mixer

I have always loved the scent of yeast, that conjures memories of my childhood home and Mama, baking bread in our cozy kitchen. From the moment the yeast hits the lukewarm water, I am transported to that kitchen and all the wonderful memories of the best childhood, filled with love and laughter.

Here is a link to the recipe for Christmas Bread, aka Swedish Coffee Bread:

https://wp.me/p2i29U-1D

asters

And to circle back to the title of this post: another simple joy of my childhood, and the beginning of my lifelong love of these wildflowers, was the tiny not-quite-meadow of tall grasses, phlox and asters that grew between our yard and the next-door neighbor’s.

The Christmas Star

by Lucy M. Young

The Christmas star is shining in the East.
Its pure and radiant light has never ceased
To guide the faithful with its steady glow,
Just as it led the Wise Men long ago
To a lowly manger in a stable bare
Where lay the Christ Child with his mother fair.

Oh Christmas star, may your pure holy light
Fill every heart with peace and joy tonight;
And may your beams encompass all the earth
Remind all nations of the holy birth
Of the Babe who came that war and suffering cease;
And bring to all the world good will and peace.

May the Christmas star fill your hearts with love and joy today and always



photo by Frantzou Fleurine on Unsplash

Memories of Christmas

by Lucy M. Young
There was snow, always snow -
Crisp and creaky underfoot,
Gleaming silver in the moonlight,
Sparkling like crystals in the sun.

I recall the utter stillness of the night,
The vast star-studded sky,
And every year the Christmas star
Aglow above the eastern mountain
Just as it shone o'er Bethlehem so long ago.

I see my mother busy in the kitchen,
Christmas baking perfuming the air;
My father reading in the mellow lamplight
Beside a crackling fire;
My sisters whispering Christmas secrets,
So eagerly anticipating Christmas day.

Most of all I feel the steadfast love
That bound us all together;
The warm security of loving parents,
The peace and harmony and deep contentment
That filled our hearts with everlasting joy.



photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Going Home for Christmas

by Lucy M. Young

photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash
We're going home for Christmas
And I can hardly wait
For Mother will be waiting,
No matter if we're late.
For a lamp will burn in the window -
A beacon shining bright -
Mother always put it there
To guide us home at night.

Father will be standing
Beside the open door,
A happy smile upon his face
To welcome us once more.
Our little sister will be there -
The angels will let her leave
To be with us just one more time
This lovely Christmas Eve.

The laden tree will sparkle
In the firelight's cheerful glow,
And Mother will be playing 
Organ music soft and low.
We'll gather 'round her singing
The carols we all love;
Rejoicing that the Precious Babe
Was sent to us from above.

There will never be a Christmas
Like those our memories know
When we were all together
So many years ago;
But we're going home, down memory lane,
How wonderful it seems
To be going home for Christmas,
If only in my dreams.