Memories of Christmas Past
Jean's Journal by Jean Farrell
My article, last week, was accompanied by a photograph of a group of young boys. It was taken in 1965. I submitted this article on December 3 unaware of the fact that one of these boys would pass away a couple of days later. Sadly, Thomas McEnroe, died on Friday December 5. The McEnroes were a big family, like our own, reared on the Connaught side of town. To all of them, I express my deepest sympathies on the passing of their brother. May they remember Thomas as he was in the lovely photo, a young lad about to head off on an outing with the choir of Saints Peter and Paul’s Church. His brother, Paddy McEnroe, as a young lad, is in the photo too.
Some Christmas Memories from past times: When we were young our Christmas toys were bought in local shops, in the middle of town. There were no huge Smyths toy stores nor the internet then.
On the Connaught side, the main toys shops were Garricks, Walshs and Patsy Murrays. On the far-side Foys, Hogans and Cases sold toys.
As little children, we saved for Christmas to buy presents for our many brothers and sisters. We saved our pennies in red round money boxes. Much shaking of these monies boxes took place, as we compared their weights!
My two sisters and I just loved the day that our mother took us to do our ‘Christmas Shopping.’ The night before we sat at the kitchen table and took our money out with a knife. I bet you remember doing this too. We counted how much we had and were delighted to be ‘rich!’
The biggest novelty of all was the fact that our mother brought us over to the far-side of town to do our Christmas shopping. So, on a day before Christmas, in the late 1950s, my two sisters and I headed across the bridge with our mother. We wore our Sunday best and each had small hand-bags full of money. We were bursting with excitement for it was nearly like going to Dublin to be heading to the far-side of town!
I clearly remember going into Burgesses and seeing women’s handkerchiefs hanging up as if they were on a clothes line. It was a wonderful display. Sheelagh, Ursula and I studied all the designs on the various handkerchiefs. Eventually, we pointed out the one we each wanted to buy for our Mammy. The assistant removed them from the ‘clothes line’ and we paid her from our savings. Imagine that I still remember the thrill of that purchase!
Further up the street we went into Hogan’s news agency and then Cases. Cases sold cheap toys which we could afford. We spent ages choosing little presents for our family and enjoyed it very much.
However, the absolute highlight of this shopping trip was that our mother brought us into the Bon Bon restaurant for our tea. Only those of you my age can understand the treat it was to be in a restaurant, in the late 1950s. We walked through the shop full of boxes of chocolates and other sweet delights. A little stairs at the end led down to the restaurant. The tables were covered with white tablecloths and we considered it very posh. The grandeur of it!
I can recall every detail, especially how special we felt to have Mammy all to ourselves making a fuss of us, her three eldest daughters! Waitresses served us plates of a ‘mixed grill.’ The chips were the biggest novelty of all.
Later, we wrapped up the presents and hid them from our young brothers and the baby.
Another memory I have is making the Christmas cake together. I’m sure many of you remember this too. Our mother didn’t bake regularly at all, so this was a big event.
We all stood around the table and each of us had a job to do. One peeled the almonds which were steeped in warm water. Another cut these into little pieces. Some sieved the flour. Others picked the stalks out of the raisins, currants and sultanas. The mixed peel would be in a lump, so it had to be separated. Every one of us was involved and we loved the ceremony of it all. Every one of us licked the big bowl afterwards and loved that too.
I can recall the gorgeous smell in the kitchen as it baked in our old oven. Days later the almond icing was added and then the white icing on top. Our mother added glycerine to this so as the icing would not be too hard.
The nuns in Moate must have had no glycerine, as the following sad tale will tell! When I was in 5th year there, we all made a Christmas cake in our Domestic Science class. I brought mine home, VERY proud of it. After our Christmas tea, Mammy told me to bring it to the table, which I did with much clapping and ceremony from all my family. My father tried to cut it, he tried and tried but he couldn't, because the icing was much too hard.
He got up and left the living room. He came back in with a big saw that he used in his butcher shop for sawing through bones. He sawed into the cake and everyone roared laughing.
I wasn't laughing, I was very hurt. I went into the kitchen and cried! I remember that well. And I must add that my father wasn’t an unkind man at all. Such is life and such are the memories I have!