From the Shores of the Ottawa River

 Christmas Deranger style,In Doghead! Fort Chipewyan, Alberta

I hold memories of my childhood Christmases in my heart, after we were allowed home for Christmas from residential school. When I first in residential school I remember receiving a gift and attending Midnight mass in the mission.   But my happiest memory is when we went home for Christmas.  

Like stepping into a world woven from snow, starlight, and the whispered breath of the northern wind. Long before the world rushed in with malls, plastic decorations, and noise, our Christmas was shaped by hands. It was shaped by land and by the quiet magic of being part of the Deranger family.

In those days, our little house stood nestled among the snowy northern woods. It was warmed by a wood stove that never seemed to sleep. Outside, the air was crisp.  Snow draped itself across the rooftops like soft white lynx. Even the spruce trees appeared dressed for celebration. Their branches were heavy with snow. The snow twinkled whenever the moon unveiled itself.

Christmas was noisy chaotic, and included the customary walk to church for midnight mass.   I don’t know how they managed to get us into fresh washed and ironed clothes and to church on time. Especially my brothers who had so much energy and spunk. Even on the walk to the church, they did not contain their excitement.

When the moon was bright, I noticed sparkles on the snow like tiny diamonds. I remember a crunchy sound as our boots broke through the thin layer of ice on the snow. The Northern Lights would make an appearance. They created a brilliant display of colorful dancing lights. We were enchanted no matter how many times we saw them.

Magic was everywhere like glitter. We, my parents and a dozen young children lived in a small house without electricity or plumbing. That means no Christmas lights, but the coal oil lamp was bright enough.  We used ordinary plates for Christmas dinner.  We children received exactly one gift for Christmas each.  I don’t mention that to get sympathy, but to explain we were happy despite it.

I am grateful for my sister Dora and older brother Peter. Along with mom and dad, they did their best to create a magical Christmas for all of us kids.  

At Christmas our house was magical. Thanks to the cleaning, cooking, and decorating of the tree, they put garland on the ceiling and doorways. Meanwhile, the small radio played set on 630 Ched played Christmas carols. We didn’t have cloth tablecloths, or curtains. Instead, we replaced the old plastic curtains and tablecloth with a new festive Christmas theme.

After midnight mass, we ate a festive late dinner before opening our gift., We opened our gift before going to sleep, feeling satisfied and happy. These rituals created a symbiotic flow in our home filled with anticipation and wonder. We had a stress-free Christmas. As far as we were concerned as children, we never noticed any tension between the adults.  On Christmas day community members came to visit bringing food and treats for us kids.

When we believe in Christmas, we, will notice that special magic in the air. And as children how we allow our mind to explore without being encumbered by the expectations of others’. Have your children experience a Christmas they will carry in their heart for a lifetime.

Merry Christmas to you and Yours