Yes, Virginia, There Was a Village Santa Claus

Seventy years ago this month, the country was reeling from the attacks on Pearl Harbor. 

The Great Depression was still spreading its dark cloud over everything, and this new horror added another layer of fear. It seemed that things could not get worse. For a time, any thoughts of the upcoming Christmas season were pushed back.

But gradually, in spite of the fear and panic of a country at war, Christmas began to work its magic.

Parents had to draw on every bit of ingenuity to reassure their children that things would be OK, even though they had their own doubts. Young fathers found themselves torn between their duty to family and country. Suddenly every moment together became more precious.

Families flocked to church in great numbers to pray for guidance in the weeks ahead. Soon the music and pageantry took on new meaning that troubled Christmas season.

The people in the little village of Montgomery carried on, trying to keep everything as normal as possible. Every Christmas, the town Santa made his rounds of the homes where there were children, and this year would be no exception.

Whenever someone talks about those days, each has a different memory of the events, and of course the experiences were different for each one. Of course, the players changed each year. One year Santa was a jolly plump man, another year he would be a tall skinny man who bore a vague resemblance to the man who lived across the street. 

One thing that remained constant was the small packages that were delivered to each house. During the '30s and '40s the packages, wrapped in bright Christmas paper, contained hard candies. Some were filled with a tart soft filling, some were the striped ribbon candies, and of course the candy canes.

During some years, Grandma Briggs made batches of her famous molasses popcorn balls for the packages, and a large orange and a handful of nuts were added. Children in the little cottage on Clinton Street would listen for the sleigh bells and wait for the light tap on the front door. The front door would fly open and Santa would toss in the packages and scurry away before the children could get a close look at him. 

I’ve mentioned these popcorn balls before so you know they really made an impression on me. Here is the recipe if you want to recreate the memory for someone: 

35 POPCORN BALLS

2 ½ gals popped corn.  Get out your biggest bowl or roasting pan for the mixing.
4 cups white sugar           
1 cup white Karo syrup           
1 cup molasses           
1 stick butter
(2 tsp baking soda added later)

Combine ingredients in a large kettle, but do not stir. Cook to 265 degrees on candy thermometer, or soft ball stage.  Remove from heat. Add 2 tsp. baking soda in 4 tsp. water and stir. Expect it to foam up when soda is added. Pour over popcorn, mix thoroughly and when it is cool enough to handle, form into popcorn balls. Grease your hands with butter to keep from sticking. 

If you don’t think these are the best things since sliced bread, please don’t tell me. I couldn’t handle it!

Libby Douglas remembers when her father was mayor, she was given the task of going from door to door in the village and taking a count of how many children lived in each house. Santa would have a map of the houses and enough packages for all.

It’s probably very hard for any child of today to imagine that this little package was the highlight of the Christmas season, second only to the Midnight Mass or the Christmas pageant at the Methodist Church. One of my favorite memories was of my main present one year; a giant paper doll and book of paper clothes to cut out. 

Besides the delicious cooking smells that surrounded the holidays, other things took our minds off the dismal events around the world. The magic of Christmas began in the kitchen. But the main event took place in the churches.

St. Peter’s had a midnight mass with the children’s choir dressed in white angel robes. The Methodist Church had beautiful traditional services with all of the children participating. Once in a while the “babe” in the manger would be someone’s tiny new brother. 

Families got together to decorate their own Christmas tree. These were always freshly cut and strung with garlands of popcorn and cranberries. The treasured boxes of ornaments and lights were taken out of storage every year. Homemade ornaments were fashioned from empty silver painted walnut shells. Tin can lids were saved to be cut and bent into pretty shapes that would catch the lights and sparkle. It was a time for families to get together and visit relatives.

No matter how lean the times, there was always enough to provide a sumptuous spread for Christmas Eve. One favorite treat was Oyster Stew. Hot, steamy bowls of stew warmed the cold hungry bodies after a night of caroling.

Sunday schools passed out little paper pop-up manger scenes, and little cardboard boxes with clothe handles, filled with hard candy. Small treats were treasured. After all, it doesn’t really take much to make a child happy. Ask anyone who lived during those days. They will always tell you that their best Christmas memories were created during the very lean years. 

There was no television, let alone gaudy commercials designed to promote the latest toy. Every little girl wanted a doll. Sometimes an old favorite doll would disappear for a few days before Christmas and then reappear with a pretty new wardrobe. More often than not, there would be an exact match for the dress Mother had sewn for the Christmas play. 

There is a lesson in this for us. Love and caring bring lasting happiness regardless of other circumstances.