Lögberg-Heimskringla - 15.12.2008, Síða 6

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6 • Lögberg-Heimskringla • 15 December 2008
The following was pub-
lished in the L-H Christmas
Issue in 1966, and it gives an
excellent description of what
Christmas was like for chil-
dren in years past - and may
be like again this year. - Ed.
Rev. S.S. Olafsson
The Rev. Sveinbjorn S.
Olafsson, assistant pastor at
Wesley Methodist church,
Minneapolis, was pastor
South St. Paul Methodist
church from 1953 to 1961. A
native of Reykavík, the capi-
tal of Iceland, the Rev. Mr.
Olafsson moved to Winnipeg
with his family when he was
13. He and Mrs. Olafsson now
live at 7120 Stevens Ave. S.,
Richfield. They have a son
and daughter and two grand-
children.
Of all the seasons of the year, Christmas in Ice-land held for me the
strangest fascination, wonder
and boundless joy. While pov-
erty, simplicity and monotony
characterized all of life, Christ-
mas was a time for sheer re-
joicing!
At no time was there enough
food to satisfy a growing boy.
Streetlights were nonexistent.
Homes were dimly lit with
costly kerosene. The strictest
economy was necessary. In a
land which touches the Arctic
Ocean, where daylight is of but
five hours’ duration, Christ-
mas meant to me, among other
things, light.
Preparations began many
days, yes weeks, before. Mut-
ton, the traditional Christmas
dish, was smoked. It was hung
up in the kitchen, where the
cooking was done in an open
hearth. The smoke rose, hov-
ered around until it finally es-
caped through an opening in the
roof. There was no chimney.
* * *
Mother would bake pan-
cakes, waffles, and cookies a
day or so before Christmas.
Pancakes were made of rich
dough, paper thin, and were
sprinkled with sugar and rolled.
They were especially appetiz-
ing and we children never got
our fill of them.
The house was cleaned and
swept thoroughly, with all things
set in their proper places.
A service of song and
praise in the church at 6 p.m.
on Christmas Eve officially
ushered in the holy season. Of
all the days of the year, this
one was the most joyous, long
looked for, and outstanding.
The church was always
crowded with worshippers, as
it was the only church in this
community of 2,000 people. At
other times it was poorly illu-
minated by two or three small
kerosene lamps, but on Christ-
mas Eve the chimneys were
shining clean and the wicks
neatly trimmed. And candles
were burning everywhere; on
the altar, windowsills, pulpit,
and wherever a candle could
be placed.
This light, bringing so
much joy and warmth, in addi-
tion to the heavenly singing of
the choir, produced an effect on
me that has never been equaled.
I never was too young or pre-
occupied with other thoughts
to retain anything the preacher
said, aside from his proclama-
tion: “Tonight Christ is born.”
Then I was lost in my thoughts
again until the choir sang an-
other carol.
* * *
On the way home, the con-
versation would inevitably be
about the friendly fairies as-
sociated with Christmas who
were thought to enter the house
during church to see that every-
thing was clean and tidy.
Now presents were dis-
tributed. It was not a matter
of opening packages, for gifts
were not wrapped. Mine were
few, inexpensive, and much
the same each year. But they
brought much joy and were
greatly sought after. The best
gift was candles. They were
small, five or six in number, in
three or four colors.
To begin with, I lit them
all at one time, for I never got
enough light. When they were
half burned, I blew them all
out but one. Now I was miserly
with them until they were all
gone. I enjoyed seeing each
one burn down. Never did I
burn any if I had to be gone for
a few minutes.
Another gift was an apple.
This filed me with wonder for it
came from a far country. I felt
that it brought me in touch with
the outside world. It was strange,
beautiful, and delicious.
I handled it tenderly, turning
it around and around, enjoying
its pleasant aroma. But the time
finally came when I had to cut
and eat it. I ate one fourth of it
each day, thus making it last
me four days. I knew that once
it was gone, I would not see an-
other until next Christmas.
Once I was given an orange
at a school program. This was
even stranger than the apple. I
had no idea how to peel it or
what I would find when I did.
A “friend” offered to help. Very
neatly he peeled it and laid all
the sections in front of me. As
he put a section in his mouth,
he said, “I get one for showing
you how to do this.” There was
nothing I could do about it. It
was an accomplished tragedy. I
felt very keenly that I had been
outsmarted. I forgave him, of
course, but will probably never
forget.
The third present was either
a pair of mittens or a scarf, or
a pair of sheepskin shoes that
mother had made.
As a child I never played
with toys from the store. My
toys were sheep-legs, jawbone
of sheep, rag balls and the like.
To this we children never gave
a thought.
* * *
These were all the gifts, but
they were augmented by good
things to eat: waffles, pancakes,
and cookies that were parceled
out to each child. These we tried
to make last until New Year’s.
It was sometimes accomplished
depending upon how much self-
denial was exercised.
After tasting each kind, we
placed the rest on a shelf above
our bed, where it was easily
accessible. As the night pro-
gressed the cookies diminished.
Sleep did not come easily this
night; the church service, the
wonderful gifts, and the good
things to eat caused too much
excitement for that. And the
lamp burned its precious kero-
sene all night in honor of the
birth of the Saviour.
The total treasures in gifts
- some small candles, an apple,
and a home-made pair of shoes
- were few, simple and inex-
pensive according to modern
standards, but because of them
and the singing and the candle-
light brilliance in the church,
my joy was complete.
I will not venture to say
whether children in America
today enjoy Christmas more
than I did in Iceland 60 years
ago, but this I know, the joy
of Christmas does not depend
upon money.
A boy’s Christmas in Iceland
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The INL of NA
2009 VISUAL ARTS CALENDAR NOW AVAILABLE
evening of lights
Honourees:
Donald K. Johnson
Gordon Reykdal
31 January 2009
Cocktails: 6 p.m. (cash bar)
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Donald K. Johnson
Tribute Dinner
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