Memories of ‘Christkindl’ come to mind every year

By Gertie Kandris

As Christmas time approaches, I fondly recall childhood memories. It is December 1949 in the village of Weiherhammer in Eastern Bavaria and I am four years old. Our home is filled with the aroma of baked “Christ Stollen” (Christmas bread). The picture on my Advent Calendar tells me that Christmas Eve is here. Oh what excitement! I can hardly wait until tonight! How will I get through the long hours of this day? The parlor door has been locked since last Sunday because no one is allowed to see when “Christkindl” comes and leaves a nativity scene, Christmas tree and plates with goodies for the family and a present for each child to celebrate his birthday on Christmas Eve. Only the children receive presents, and so Papa has taken me to the store yesterday morning to buy a gift for Mama. We bought Nivea hand cream so Mama can keep her hands soft to go along with her gentle touch. Mama took me to the store yesterday afternoon, and we bought Papa a fancy handkerchief that he can wear in his suit pocket; my gift will be close to his heart.

Papa went rabbit hunting earlier in the week and tonight just the four of us — my parents, my brother Richard and I — will feast on my Mama’s special rabbit stew. We will share the Christmas goose with our extended family on Christmas day.

After our dinner we hear the silver bell that “Christkindl” rings before it goes on to the next house. My heart stands still as the parlor door opens and — Wow! — a Christmas tree with so many burning candles it lights up the entire room! Papa hands each one of us a sparkler and lights them while we sing “Silent Night;” then Mama takes her violin, Papa his concertina and Richard his flute and they play and sing with me expressing our joy in Jesus’ birth. After the candles are extinguished, we can open our presents! As I unwrap the box, I can see that Christkindl granted my greatest wish — a doll. I call her “Cornelia” and she is my constant companion for many years to come.

Richard loves his “new” used accordion (which he still plays every Christmas Eve at the request of his children and grandchildren). Now it’s off through the glistening, festive snow to Christmas Mass where our friend Maria sings her solo of “Ave Maria” soaring and resonating through the tall church. After we return home, Cornelia and I sink into my bed. Yes, all is calm, all is bright and what a glorious night!

It is now approaching December 2003 with many parts of the world engulfed in war and terrorism. This year my dearest wish is for each child to experience the magic, love and peace of a blessed Holiday they may fondly recall many years from now.