Cookies and memory
My grandparents came from Greece many, many years ago, and Grandmother Stella taught daughters and daughters-in-law how to make various cookies including baklava (no explanation needed), koulouria (sesame seed twists) and kourabiethes (powdered sugar crescents). Grandmother would proudly open a tin filled with this delicious assortment and always state, "You may pick just one." The kourabiethes were my favorite. We were always cautioned "not to breathe in" while eating these cookies as we would inhale the sugar in our haste to eat the coveted cookie, which caused much coughing, sputtering and the loss of a significant portion of the cookie. And, no, we didn't receive another if we were so careless. We knew the rules!
Grandchildren and great-grandchildren ultimately learned the time-consuming process and proudly carry on the cookie-making tradition. Somehow the skill skipped over me, so for the past 10 years my son, Justin, one of the "greats," has supplied us with the aforementioned delectables at Christmas each year.
What a special treat these cookies are--carrying years of memories and tradition into our current Christmas celebration. As I sit here at the kitchen table carefully eating my one cookie for the day, faces of extended family are swirling through my mind. Remembering brings a tear to my eye--and also makes me smile. Dear family, I love you one and all.
MARY KANELAKOS MYERS
Rogers
On a scavenger hunt
Count me among those who don't give a flip whether it's "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays," as long as it is said with a smile.
I welcome the opportunity to share a favorite Christmas memory, this year being the first Christmas without our mother, who passed away in July, just short of 91 years old. Mom loved Christmas, and she and Dad never failed to make it special. The most vivid of many great memories was an annual "scavenger hunt," beginning with an envelope in the tree containing the first of several cleverly crafted notes, leading my sister and me here and there around the house, in search of the final destination where we would find the "big gift of the year."
My favorite was the first TV we could call our own. It was a 13-inch black-and-white, and it was fabulous.
CHUCK GOSS
Little Rock
Remains in my heart
My sister, brother, and I spent about two years in St. Joseph's Home for Children in Erie, Pa.
I remember fondly the day a nice couple took my sis and me shopping at Christmas time. (Other folks did the same with other children.) They helped us choose gifts for parents, and jeans for our 2-year-old brother. We were excited to have Silly Putty, which was a newer product, for each of us.
Another very fond memory is of "Little Christmas." This was celebrated on the feast of the Epiphany, which is when the Wise Men bore gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh for the infant king, Jesus. In the "orphanage," we each received a small box of candy and a "Little Christmas" gift. The bishop came to visit us all that day. My sister and I continued this tradition for many years.
It was such a special time! These fond memories have remained in my heart for about 54 years.
SHERYL BANAK
Little Rock
Family tradition lives
It was Christmas 1955 and I was 8 years old and about to abandon my belief in Santa Claus. I wanted to believe, but I just wasn't sure.
My family lived in El Dorado, and every Christmas Eve we traveled to North Little Rock to attend my mother's family Christmas celebration. It was always a fun time as my mother had eight brothers and sisters, and they had children. My many cousins and brother and sister and I loved this party. There was always lots of delicious food, which we just wanted to get out of the way and get on with the presents.
Eventually the presents were opened and we kids had great fun playing with them for hours, it seemed. Then Grandpa would get out his bag and we would each get a silver dollar. I always looked through them to get the oldest one I could find. Next, my uncles would get out their guitars and the whole family would sing Christmas songs. Sometime around midnight, Daddy would pack up the car and we would head back to El Dorado. Usually, we kids were asleep in the back seat. But every year, at some point along the way, Daddy would see Santa and wake us up to see him, but he had always just passed out of sight.
This year, when we arrived home, Santa had already been there. My brother got a tricycle and my sister, a doll. I got a model train and it was set up around the Christmas tree and running. There was a Santa! Because my parents were with me and could not have done this.
I still have that train set and I still have the silver dollars. And the Smith family Christmas party tradition continues. All our parents are gone and some of our cousins also, but this Christmas Eve, I will go to the party and we adults will eat and make the little ones wait to open their gifts just like we have been doing for 70 years.
DARLENE EMISON
Little Rock
Santa came through
At a Christmas Party at Lyon College where Jason, a student dressed as Santa, was taking requests, I, the divorcee thoroughly through with men, joked with Santa.
"What do you want for Christmas, little girl?" said Santa.
"I want a man," said me.
"I'll see what I can do!"
We laughed and went our separate ways. The next weekend the bishop of Arkansas came to confirm communicants at St. Paul's Episcopal Church where I was organist. As I left that night to play for the service, my dad voiced that I might meet someone. I told him I was "tired of kissing frogs."
At the reception after the service, I saw a handsome man who seemed familiar. As we worked our way around the room, finally meeting, I did know him. He graduated from Lyon College in '79 and I in 1980. We talked until the little ladies were putting away the wine bottles and hors d'oeuvres and tactfully suggested we leave. Since Hardees was the only restaurant in Batesville open late hours, we went there and talked all night.
That was Dec. 7, Pearl Harbor Day. We were married two months later. That was almost 25 years ago. We are still married and have a 22-year-old son. At our wedding, several of the students at that Christmas party, including Jason, came to our wedding. Santa really came through for us that Christmas.
CAMILLE BEARY
Batesville
Editorial on 12/24/2016