According to W. J. Cameron, "There has been only one Christmas - the rest are anniversaries." In my case, growing up in Old Perlican in the 1940s there were a few Christmases and the rest are memories. Those days of yore were the best of times or the worst of times, the best in the sense of being satisfied and content with very little, enjoying a simple way of life in spite of hard economic times. For the most part, we celebrated the 12 days of Christmas - Christmas Eve until Old Christmas Day, Christmas music was not heard in November. The earliest sign as I recall was the annual school concert, a community event usually held on December 18. Joy, excitement, and anticipation precipitated the arrival of Santa, who on a few occasions, was accompanied by Mrs. Claus. Their exuberance and animation charmed the young and old alike. Christmas Eve seemed eerily quiet and silent; there was no Christmas Eve service. We had to be in bed early, and before dawn on Christmas morning we found our stockings on the bedstead. We would usually get a treat, an apple or orange, maybe a few grapes in addition to Christmas cake. We would go to the Christmas eleven o'clock church service and come home to our Christmas dinner; I doubt if it was always turkey. My sister and I, accompanied by another friend, started a practice of going around knocking on a few doors asking if we could see their Christmas tree. Being kids, and especially because of the season, we were welcomed in, shown their tree and some gifts, given a treat and we were on our way. After Boxing Day many of the population went jannying. We rummaged in closets and old trunks for outmoded garments to wear or resorted to tablecloths, blankets, sheets, and window curtains which often had to be doubled to conceal one's facial identity. We tramped every lane and bypath, gave a harsh rap on the back door and were jovially welcomed inside. Sitting around the kitchen there was a lot of prodding, fun making and the conversation left to those most adept at janney-talk. We were given at least a cookie or piece of cake, usually after our identity was exposed. One host was notorious for getting close up for a clearer view, or even attempting to partially remove the head covering. Some allowed such close scrutiny and examination, most resented it. On one occasion when the jannies started their merry dance in a kitchen the host said, "What do you think this is, Madison Square Garden?" Being overcome with the heat, we were soon on our way to the next house. As it got later in the evening, we were more fearful of the bigger jannies and tried our best to avoid them. The singular event that involved almost everyone in the community was the Orangemen's dinner and dance, referred to as the Orangemen's Time. Some had sacrificed to save a half dollar for this much anticipated occasion. Two rows of tables were set up, covered with freshly washed table cloths laden with platters of cold meat, huge bowls of salads and the crowning glory, a variety of pies, cakes and cookies that had not been seen since the summer garden party. Some were a little reticent in joining the first sitting; through intuition perhaps, they deferred to the group who automatically took their places at the signal of readiness. The one consolation being no shortage of food at the second or third sitting. As soon as the tables were cleaned up and stored, and an auctioneer had auctioned off the remaining cakes and pies, the people sat back against the walls awaiting the main spectacle, the square dance. The locals were novices and depended on the seasoned veterans from neighbouring communities to guide them through the various steps. Seated on a chair in a conspicuous, central location, a jovial guy with beads of perspiration on his forehead tapped his feet to the beat of the lively tunes he played on the accordion. Some were of Irish ancestry and were used to the Irish jigs and reels; no one thought of it being ironic that they were participating in an Orangemen's affair. Those long forgotten traditional enmities would not deter their enjoying the evening of frivolity and fun. At the end of a set, the dancers, their shirts drenched with perspiration, went outside in freezing cold temperatures to cool off, and perhaps intake something warm and stimulating to increase their agility. During the short break one of the visitors, amid much applause, displayed his tap dancing skills as he danced the broomstick with much nimbleness and skill. Starting sedately, the dancing became wilder as evening advanced and blood became heated. Toward morning as they became even more spirited some women were whirled around with their legs well off the floor, trusting their strong-armed partner would not lose his grip. The other ritual we had around New Years was to traipse around the harbour to the stores seeking their calendars. We were fascinated by the beautiful pictures and compared them to see which we thought were best. Those Christmas days and nights were indeed a child's delight, or as Charles Dickens said, "Happy, happy Christmas, that can win us back to the delusions of our childish days; that can recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth." Submitted by Charles Beckett, Gambo, NL   Submitted By: NULL