ONE Apple + ONE orange: memories of a christmas long ago + far away

Cherishing all those family and friends who worked so hard to make our Christmases special!

At the age of six, even viewed through a veil of skepticism about the existence of Santa Claus, Christmas was a very special time for our family in Bermuda. There were just four of us children; the others were aged four, three, and one - more children would show up later on down the road.

We had moved from a rental in Spanish Point a year earlier, leaving a house with an enormous front yard, or so we thought. A visit back there many years later revealed a tiny cottage nestled on a postage stamp size lot.

A big move it was, then, to a half-acre yard, tons of room for chickens, ducks, rabbits, dogs, cats, fruit trees, a veggie garden, access to the Banyan trees' aerial swinging branches in the neighboring botanical gardens, and an old, run-down house. It had one 500-gallon water tank and a hand pump for water only in the kitchen.

In many ways, many things were still primitive, scarce, and costly as Bermuda war rationing was finally over six years after World War II. We did not care; what we did know was that only two children had to share a bedroom. The centre of that home, our kitchen did not remotely resemble the gourmet-traffic-aisle-patterns of today's home replete with microwave, convection oven and barbecue ovens, dishwasher, ice and cold water refrigerators and freezers. Moreover, it was some time before the hand pump was replaced with real live water running from a tap.

We are accustomed to that convenience now, more or less. Mostly our kitchens today are used for heating pre-packaged and/takeout food. Because we are now far too busy to cook. So with four children, a home needing major renovations, a mortgage, a Dad who was self-employed selling sewing machines and rode a pedal bicycle to work, no automobile, and precious little else, our mother became the ultimate scrounger, persistent rummage sale / thrift shopper and inventor of recycling.

Her "brown" drink made with Kool-aid, sugar, the residual of the morning's teapot (leaves steeped not bags), and one, only one, tiny expensive frozen orange juice can contents to the gallon was the precursor of a snapple-type "health" beverage today.

In winter, she recycled old blankets to fit various sized babies into what today are produced as "onesies."

Recycled, assorted baby food and other jars received the largesse of her jam and pickle productions sealed the old-fashioned way with melted parafin, all native-fruit, free, and picked by the whole family. Her loquat (cumquat) and fresh ginger jam was stunningly deliciously and sought-after.

Her hand-made soap made from ingredients bartered from neighbors in return for baked goods - were prototypes then, now artistic copies sold as speciality gift-wrapped items. 

Her uniquely designed hand-made Christmas felt stockings with appliquéd cutout figures have translated into an entire appliqué garment industry, while she incessantly bought gorgeous pre-owned clothing at thrift shops, cutting, redesigning, and reproducing items in new trendy styles.

Knitting constantly, too, using rewound wool from old sweaters, she produced colorful matching sweaters, dresses, and boys vests lining us all up for the annual Easter photos. The line up was then endured again for first day of school us wearing her handmade uniforms as retail purchased ones were way too expensive.

Countless other of her recycled designs were donated and sold at church and school fund-raisers.

We almost never saw her stop for a minute, ingeniously managing too many projects in too little time, deriving them from her own imagination and a few recycled Women’s magazines as Bermuda was not to have any television access for another eleven years.

We never truly realize or appreciate what our families did for us as children until we are challenged when finances are limited and time is short.

Yet, these activities were not so unusual for the time - this is what our mothers did, they had to. Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without……

How ironically amusing, yet so very encouraging today to see these thrifty and tactile traits - so looked down on then in an era where everyone wanted only store-bought goods - now highly emulated, turned into business propositions as various treasures are discovered, authenticated, remade and remarketed to high-end consumers.

It is difficult to recall in much detail what we received for Christmas in those days, but what we do remember is that the tree was surrounded by presents and every child had at least six to open. Many of presents were made by hand, or rediscovered in donations or traded from someone else's toy box.

In that context, nothing has changed, clothes as gifts were even then not interesting, pajamas even worse, but books, toys and games were desperately craved. During the first summer at our own home, I had taught myself how to ride my father's bicycle, by crouching underneath the cross bar, gripping the handlebars and balancing at an odd angle, holding on for dear life. That Christmas, outside the front door stood a girl's one-speed pedal bike complete with a wicker basket.

It was not new, but it was mine. What joy!

Afterward, our mother, who excelled at making something out of nothing, put on a huge Christmas dinner, almost always inviting someone who had no one, to sit through the brawling of four, then five, six and finally seven noisy children. Mostly, these strangers did not seem to mind our antics; it probably made them thankful to head home to their own serene surroundings later, always carrying some leftover treats.

Our family church, at that time, had established a Christmas party tradition, always held the first Sunday after Christmas. For every child, this was the frosting on the cake, mitigating the letdown after all the Christmas gifts were opened.

At the party, every child received a present from Santa himself, and the long-awaited wonderful mesh stocking bag imported from the United States chock full of candy. In the toe of the bag rested one orange (no seeds), and one red, exquisitely perfect five-dimpled apple, fruits that I had never seen.
An apple and an orange that were so perfect, all for me to eat and not to share.

While this type of imported fruit was becoming more commonly available in Bermudian grocery stores, our mother never bought such things, way too costly. It was only years later that I was able identify them as a navel orange and Washington State apple.

But, back then, little did we know that our own fruit trees planted by our father had better, healthier, fresher fruit. We wanted the store-bought kind because they looked so perfect, they must be the best.

Those church parties lasted for another four years, each time the eagerly awaited stocking was given again.

Then one year the parties just stopped, and an era was over.

Today we consider it our right to choose multiple varieties of many kinds of food, clothing, cars, homes, jewelry, and blithely, we assume that these things will always be there.
Ours for the taking.

But what if, you only had a choice of an apple, an orange, or a bag of candy? Would your lives be somehow diminished, or would you feel more than adequately complete, living simply so that others may simply live?

Remember this holiday season there are those who do not have choices. It does not matter what is there to choose; they will not be able to have it, whether the cause through sickness, unemployment, economic deprivation, sublimation of human rights, illness, misfortune, or just being terribly poor.

Take the proceeds of one gift and choose to give it to someone else less fortunate.

You could be the one to make the difference, in helping an individual or family to reach the same plateau as the rest of us - that of having the right to choose.

Merry Christmas, readers.  

Martha Harris Myron is a native Bermudian UK US national. Her career encompassed the fields of medical technology, garment design, real estate development, a qualified, accredited, licensed finance professional in accounting, auditing and taxation, international financial planning, and investment advisory services, finance journalist, author, and YouTube creator. At age 69, she earned a Master of Laws in International Taxation and Financial Services summa cum laude. Her work is/has been featured in The Royal Gazette, Google News, Muckrack, The Bermudian and related international media.
Contact: martha.myron@gmail.com