NEW YORK BOSTON |#Popular: Irish Celebrity Gossip Irish in US Politics Irish Festivals Irish Roots Irish Entertainment Offbeat Irish

Home Page > Blogs > News blogs > Periscope > How Christmas was in my father’s time

Periscope by Niall O'Dowd

How Christmas was in my father’s time

Posted on Friday, December 24, 2010 at 04:25 AM

Larger Text

E-mail

19 Comments

RSS

Archives

My daughter wants a Wii for Christmas, my father walked barefoot to midnight Mass on Christmas Eve from his village to Dingle in Co. Kerry, a distance of seven miles.

Two different generations, connected through me, but the magic of Christmas holds in both cases.
I think my father got the better of it, though, and that is a reflection on modern times where Christmas has become about cash machines ringing, not sleigh bells.

The simplicity of life back in rural West Kerry around 1915 was total. I don’t want to draw a sentimental veil over the hardships, but there is no doubt there was a neighborliness and companionship that has all but vanished in most places now.

Christmas brought the best of that spirit together.

As I write this I am listening to my father, dead since 1978. Like me he was a writer, except he wrote in the Irish language, something I have tried and failed to do.

He recalled, most vividly, on numerous radio programs the Kerry he grew up in long ago.

One of the greatest gifts I ever got was when I was presented with his radio talks from long ago from the Irish radio archives.

It happened when my brother, Fergus, a politician in Ireland, and I were on the same station this Easter talking about families and brotherhood.

So I turn on and tune in. At first when I listened the sound of his voice upset me as I had not heard it since 1978.

Did he really have such a distinctive Kerry accent? Yes he did, and when he spoke Irish it connected me in a profound way to all the generations who came before him who used it as their first tongue like he did.

Kilcooley, his village, seemed like an especially magical place at Christmas. Christmas Eve was when they would walk with shoes tied around their neck to the little church in Dingle.

They would never let the townies in Dingle see them without their shoes on, so they begged and borrowed a pair from neighbors or whoever to make sure they looked the part.

Often times he remembered it rained on that journey into town and they would arrive, bedraggled and drenched, but happy in their childhood and shared experience.

He described the visiting to the various neighbor’s houses around Christmas time when there no distractions, neither radio or television, but just the old folks and the fairy and ghost stories and the talk of who was in America and when, if ever, they would return.

These days we talk about Facebook integration and the global community. What Facebook hopes to catch is what my father’s neighbors had all those decades ago, a tight knit, utterly integrated group of human beings whose lives were linked and interdependent.

“I Scath a cheile a maireann na daoine” says the old Irish expression, which loosely translates, “In each other’s shadow the people live.” That was how it was in West Kerry long ago, never more evident than at Christmas time.

I suppose I straddle both worlds, remembering a time when there was no television and a neighborliness that has long since vanished in most parts.

As for my daughter, what will she tell her grandchildren? Santa Claus will still be around to charm and to thrill, as will the feeling of warmth and appreciation that Christmas inevitably brings.

They never met, my daughter and father, but they have much in common, including a love of the spirit of Christmas, that surpasses all else. I like to think that somewhere out there he will watch her unwrapping her presents, seeing the magic of Christmas once again rekindled in her eyes.

Merry Christmas to one and all.

E-mail

19 Comments

See all comments

sirpeter | Dec 31, 2010, 11:12 PM EST

Creakinggate..."A year before an evil upheaval"..Really Even when you are trying to be nice..your posts read like the brass plate on the top of a coffin.

Report abuse

Towngate | Dec 30, 2010, 04:55 PM EST

jcartmill. It is simple already! Drop your phone in a bucket of water. Get your child to dump hers too -and the old wreck of a car.If you have Irish DNA, like 'the Boss', you should be able to walk at least seven miles in bare feet in Mid-Winter and keep your daughter company!

Report abuse

jcartmill | Dec 29, 2010, 02:08 PM EST

I miss the simpler days of no cells phones, and walking to the store. I'm thankful my daughter has a cell phone when her car breaks down and she's alone, but I wish life was simpler.

Report abuse

Towngate | Dec 27, 2010, 01:58 PM EST

A truly heart-warming story of an 1915 Ireland well ordered and generally prosperous. - a year before an evil upheaval, where some people would walk seven miles in their bare feet with their shoes tied around their necks - and only put them on when they reached their destination - and then only for show! ..... Only in Holy Ireland! For God’s Sake! ...A more cynical person might suggest: perhaps somebody's ancestor was saying: "...get the feck away outa this place - away from these madmen and make a good life for yourself, where you can wear shoes all the time!" ..... Yet! ... when I pick up the jug in my old family cottage in Clare, which held the pennies my grandparents kept for the "RanBoys" (Wren Boys) who would descend on the homestead on Dec.26 - St Stephens Day, demanding money or kisses and dances from the females of the house to give them encouragement to hunt the Wren. Through this jug and many other things, I promised to always honour their lives and sacrifices. To cherish their customs and pass them on to my children. ..... Suddenly, I imagined a powerful feeling of rebuke! "You'll do no such thing!" - their voices seem to say quite clearly. " We lived in Our Own Time. You must live in Yours. Your children will live in Theirs too, and so on. The Past is here Now along with the Future. All we have been and will ever be, is contained in this glorious living moment. Nobody can live in anybody's lifetime but their own." ...... So maybe, Niall, when you slip off your shoes on the plane and put them back on for the 'final approach' to your Destination - you are following in your Fathers footsteps closer than you think. ......... Thanks for this brilliant Site, may it go from strength to strength. Meantime; Seasons Greetings and the best of Irish Luck to all Bloggers and Commentators.

Report abuse

CitizenWhy | Dec 26, 2010, 11:42 AM EST

Times change. When I was child of Irish immigrants in NYC there was no emphasis on Santa Claus, we bought and decorated the tree on Christmas Eve, we kids stayed up with the adults through Christmas Eve into Christmas morning (unless we wanted to go to bed), neighbors visited before and after Midnight Mass and were given drinks and breakfasts of eggs sausages on bakery rolls and potato slices and coffee or tea and orange juice. This went on all night. We kids opened our one present whenever we wanted. We also would get a present on the Epiphany. In addition, various adults would slip us a dollar for our toy fund (my friends and I saved to buy items we wanted for play and sports). Christmas was about hospitality and socializing, not presents. ... Today the children in order of age will take a present from under the tree and in order of age (oldest first) present it to an adult. When the adult is finished unwrapping and admiring her/his gift, then the next present will be fetched and presented. Exciting but calm and orderly and social. One present would be from Santa Claus, the rest from real adults, who are duly thanked as the present is opened. The last presents to be opened are the childrens'. There is a limit on Christmas of 3 presents to be opened per child. Additional presents are given to the children at a pace of one a day starting Dec. 28. Before Christmas the children must also wrap presents for poor kids and are given the chance to add some cash to the Christmas check being sent to a children's charity.

Report abuse

ardgehane | Dec 25, 2010, 03:07 PM EST

my da rode a donkey to the pub - we haven't seen him since

Report abuse

ardgehane | Dec 25, 2010, 10:14 AM EST

A warming story Niall. Thank you. The Ireland you describe was very much mine too - and for me, around the small farms and towns of north Mayo, it lasted well into the 1960s. A way of life 'gone with the wind.'

Report abuse

paricaliswishes | Dec 25, 2010, 07:10 AM EST

They did'nt have live tv outside their doors every night that's why nearly everything was much better way back before tv tevastated us.

Report abuse

Bernie57 | Dec 24, 2010, 08:53 PM EST

Beautiful story and makes me think of my own parents telling stories of how Christmas was for them growing up in Co. Mayo. We will never experience their true joy at getting an orange or a few sweets as a treat. Happy Christmas everyone at home and abroad.

Report abuse

Searlit | Dec 24, 2010, 07:10 PM EST

Have a Happy Christmas, Niall and everyone on Irish Central.

Report abuse

kateomprint | Dec 24, 2010, 02:10 PM EST

A really heartwarming story i read just as i am getting ready for tomorrow. One tradition I have in my home isthat the Christmas tree does not go up until Christmas Eve when we are all together (naturally a row breaks out over how many sets of lights go on. I have also listened to my Mother who is now 90 years old telling stories about Christmas and her life in Ireland at that time and some of them were heartbreaking and others very funny. All that is left to say is to wish everybody on Irish Central a very Happy Christmas and a bright New Year.

Report abuse

mew0624 | Dec 24, 2010, 02:04 PM EST

I wish I had had the chance to hear the old Irish language you referenced. My family is many generations removed coming to America from Ireland. Your story touched my heart. Mary Gallagher Williams, Dallas-Fort Worth, Texas

Report abuse

Monsoonman | Dec 24, 2010, 01:02 PM EST

These are the good old days.

Report abuse

Mellis5910 | Dec 24, 2010, 11:58 AM EST

This article really warmed my heart this Christmas Eve. It is sad to think that we are losing our connection to one another and the things that matter, like family and community--but I believe there is hope for reconnection--after all, you have connected me, in spirit at least, to my Irish grandparents and Ireland. I thank you for that and wish you all my Irish brethren a Merry Christmas. Melissa Martin Ellis New England, USA

Report abuse

maryemoore | Dec 24, 2010, 11:26 AM EST

Thanks, Niall. My Dad was from North Kerry- Aughrim, Moyvanne, near Listowel but his stories warmed my heart and made me jealous of a life of close-knit neighbours and a life, tho hard but fulfilling that I could never experience. The closest experience I had was when I was walking along a road in Asdee where my uncle lived and I met a man on the road. He stopped me and said you must be Mick Moore's niece. He then proceeded to tell me my whole family history! Extraordinary. Could never happen in NYC!

Report abuse