Back before the box stores came, small towns were full of small mom-and-pop businesses, the kind of places where you walked in and they already knew what you were likely to need. Those manning these stores were your friends, your neighbors, your fellow church members. You probably were in 4-H or Scouts or some other organization with their kids. Perhaps you rode the same school buses together or perhaps you sang together in the high school chorus or played in band together. Your parents were friends with the proprietors of these stores, having grown up together and graduated from high school together.
Christmastime in these small-town shops was something special. The local grocery stores-all members of the IGA-Independent Grocers Association-would display baking ingredients, nuts, candied fruit, and baking pans and utensils for making what we called “Spritz” cookies. (These are sometimes referred to as Danish butter cookies.) There would be hams studded with cloves at the meat counter. One local grocer in my home town made wonderful Swedish potatiskorv, potato baloney, an important part of our Christmas celebration. That same grocer also carried dried fruit, stick cinnamon, and pearl tapioca for making Swedish fruktsoppa-fruit soup, as well as rennet tablets for setting the curd for ost kaka (Swedish cheesecake.) We milked cows, so Mom always mixed the rennet tablets with milk to make the curd and then drain the liquid off the curd by tying the curd up in cheesecloth and hanging it over the kitchen sink. Of course, we also bought flour, yeast, sugar, cardamom, and all the other ingredients for our special Christmas treats.
Next were the five-and-dime stores, where things really did cost 5 and 10 cents. The brightly lit windows of these stores were wondrous. Those were the places where children could shop for small gifts for parents and parents would shop for stocking stuffers for children. For bigger presents, there were the dry goods stores selling clothing for men, women, and children. While many mothers ordered things from Sears and Roebuck or Montgomery Ward, some families bought Christmas clothing locally. In those days when men still wore hats, one men’s clothing store would sell you a small model hat in a small round hatbox. The recipient would then come to the store after Christmas to select his hat. While most of us simply wore our best shoes to church at Christmas, there were those wealthy enough to buy new shoes at the local shoe store, a place of wonder, heavily scented with the intoxicating smell of leather. We were also entranced by the modern convenience of x-raying our feet to see what shoe size we required. Only decades later would we realize that radiation exposure might lead to thyroid cancer.
Every place of business had some kind of colored lights, even if it was only a single string. The days of elaborate Christmas displays with accompanying music were yet to arrive, but for those of us coming in from the country, the lights were enchanting. The local park would also have lights, and the town fathers would make sure there was some kind of Christmas banner or display hanging from every lamp post in town.
“Hmph!” you exclaim, “so far you haven’t described anything very impressive.” No. I haven’t, and for a good reason. We were much more easily impressed in those days. Television was in its infancy and many families still were without a TV. Our expectations were far more modest, so we were far more easily bedazzled. Our Christmas trees were lovely and divinely scented, whether we cut them ourselves or bought them from the local Jaycees or Scouts or whoever was selling trees that year. And many of those trees might sport hand-made ornaments that we had created at school and lovingly brought home on the bus. Our stashes of presents were smaller, and if we got oranges in our stockings and some chocolates, we were content. But what was important at Christmastime was the love and fellowship we felt wherever we went in town. Years ago, I wrote a Christas song that still applies.
Jesus, I’ve Searched For You Everywhere
Jesus, I’ve searched for You everywhere, and still not a trace do I see.
I’ve been through all the shops buying presents, all the things that I see on T.V.
But Christmas is only a few days away; I’m not ready for it to come now.
There must be a way I can find you, but Jesus, I don’t know how.
Chorus: It isn’t the presents, it isn’t the tree. It isn’t the things that you see on T.V.
If you want to find out where Christmas must start, It’s not far-it begins in your heart.
I went to some great Christmas programs, thinking maybe that I’d find You there.
But all the songs were about winter, and there wasn’t so much as a single prayer.
So I listened to carols on radio. It helped; it at least was a start.
But Jesus, I have a big problem: I’ve a God-sized hole in my heart.
Chorus: It isn’t the presents, it isn’t the tree. It isn’t the things that you see on T.V.
If you want to find out where Christmas must start, It’s not far-it begins in your heart.
I mingled with Christmas shoppers, thinking maybe I’d find You with them.
All the people were angry and frightened – was it like this at Bethlehem?
They seemed to be fearful their families wouldn’t love them if there weren’t enough
Presents on Christmas morning, so they bought lots of meaningless stuff.
Chorus: It isn’t the presents, it isn’t the tree. It isn’t the things that you see on T.V.
If you want to find out where Christmas must start, It’s not far-it begins in your heart.
Jesus, why did you come to us? Were You born just so that You could die?
You say all of our efforts aren’t good enough to make heaven no matter how hard we try?
Jesus, is this then the reason, that you came to free us from sin?
From our hardness of heart and our bitterness, so that we might enter in?
Chorus: It isn’t the presents, it isn’t the tree. It isn’t the things that you see on T.V.
If you want to find out where Christmas must start, It’s not far-it begins in your heart. (Repeat chorus)
If you want to find out where Christmas must start, It’s not far-it begins in your heart.
(This Song Copywrited by Jean Young)
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