“Am I not forgetting someone?” wondered Molly Dokkema as she let her eyes wander about the mess on the table.  Molly loved to give others something; to make them happy, glad, surprised.  She was inclined to indulge….William, her husband, and she had since their immigration to New Zealand changed over from the Dutch St. Nicholas’ Eve (5 December) to Christmas.  The sphere was different, Molly thought, especially because in this part of the world Christmas comes in the midst of the summer instead of in the winter, when there is snow and ice.  That could not be helped.

Besides, her parents, brothers and sisters were all overseas.  Most of her neighbors and acquaintances in Ashhurst would be on holiday with their children, somewhere in a summer house or in a caravan.  Some friends, members of the church, would stay with relatives up North; others would go to the South island.

She had to keep that in mind.  “Now, let me see, what will make grandfather really happy?  What will mum like?  Or perhaps something for dad and mum together?  I’ll have to hurry.  What is suitable for sister-in-law Betty?  And for Colin?  If I give him chocolates again, he will become chubby….I must not forget Uncle Ben, so that he will receive his parcel in time by mail…I don’t want to make the same mistakes as last year….I want to be more attentive.”  She went quickly through the list she had made.

She remembered that the tradition of giving with Christmas seems to go back to the history of the Wise Men of the East who brought gifts to the stable in Bethlehem where Jesus was born; God Himself had shown these men the way they had to go by using the shining light of the Eastern Star above the village.  Perhaps Joseph had used some of the gifts later, when the young family had to flee to Egypt.  Well, it was possible.

The marks of honour would have been of practical value for the King of Kings and His earthly parents in that way….

“Oh! I must not forget that old Mr. Jackson who lives across the road; often he is not well.  And a card with compliments of the season for the postie, who brings the mail faithfully, rain, hail or shine, on her creaky bike.  And Mrs. Welchman, at the corner, who I often meet walking with her stick.”  Molly brought her a bag with groceries once a week from the village.  She would bake a fruit cake for her….Molly made most of gifts herself or she composed a Christmas hamper in a decorated basket, with fruit, nuts, jam and cheese.

William, with a smile, called it self-torture….She really looked forward to Christmas; with everything it stood for, framed by hominess like a frieze of gold….

Through the open window a gust of wind blew some of the Christmas cards on the carpet.  Molly recognized the typical sounds of sparrows catching insects in the rose bushes…..

She would play carols on the piano again this Christmas.  Perhaps, next year, she would have a baby to look after and would understand even better what it had meant for Mary in Bethlehem, although that had been different.

And she had to learn a lot, to be prepared…