Christmas Customs and Traditions by Shanna Wegrocki.
Let's take a brief break from writing and discuss a well-researched piece on Christmas world traditions.
Christmas tree lots are on the corners, lights are twinkling on houses, and decorations are everywhere you look, but this is one of the few holidays that is celebrated around the world.
China, for instance, celebrates by hanging paper lanterns, and crafting paper chains and flowers for their Christmas trees. They get a visit from Dun Che Lao Ren, (their version of Santa Claus).
India celebrates Bada Din (Big Day) with festivals and large feasts. Since they don’t have pine trees, they use mango or banana trees instead. For them, it’s a time of spring-cleaning and whitewashing their homes. Shopping and baking abound.
In Argentina and many South American countries, people celebrate by going to church and taking part in religious rituals. Families feast together and trade presents while celebrating the birth of Jesus. They thrive on dancing, caroling, and fireworks displays for twelve days, ending on Three Kings Day in January.
Swedes start Christmas festivities on December 13 with the Santa Lucia ceremony. They set up trees and decorate them with candies, straw ornaments, and small gnomes. Christmas Eve ends with a candlelight procession to church. The Christmas gnome, Tomte, (believed to live under the house), leaves gifts for the family.
Spain starts their holiday season with the feast of the Immaculate Conception on December 8th. The big cathedral in Seville hosts a ceremony that includes Los Seises, the dance of six, which is a ritual dance performed by ten boys in elaborate costumes. On Christmas Eve, known as Nochebuena, families feast together around the Nativity scene and light tiny oil lamps when the stars come out.
Germany starts their Christmas season even earlier, with St. Nicholas Day on December 6th. Children put out their shoes and if they’ve been good, they receive gifts, but if they’ve been bad, they can expect twigs. Given that the Christmas tree, as we know it, originated in Germany, it’s no surprise that the tree is a point of pride in many German homes. On Christmas Eve, they unveil it and serve a feast.
The French trade the Christmas tree for a Nativity scene and populate it with small, clay figurines called Santons or Little Saints, which local craftsmen prepare. They also serve Christmas cakes in the shape of a Yule log. On Christmas Eve, children leave wooden clogs out for Pere Noel to fill. Families attend midnight Mass and return home for a giant Christmas feast called Le Reveillon. In some areas of France, children get gifts on both St. Nicholas Day and Christmas. Adults usually exchange their gifts on New Year’s Day.
The Italian Christmas season starts with the Novena, nine days of special prayers and religious devotion. Children perform with carols and reciting poems to receive coins and musicians sing tributes to the Virgin Mary. Instead of writing letters to Santa, children write notes to their parents. Families often build a Presepio, their own replica of the manger where Jesus was born, and they worship around it. After fasting 24 hours before Christmas, they enjoy a lavish feast. In some places, they open gifts after midnight Mass, but most wait until after the Feast of Epiphany on January 6. That’s when Befana, an ugly witch, brings gifts on her broomstick. The legend of Befana says she missed seeing Jesus in the manger because she got lost, so now she goes house to house looking for Him, leaving gifts for good children and charcoal for bad ones.
In all probability, the closest to American tradition is Britain. It starts with Advent, four Sundays before Christmas. Instead of Santa Claus, Father Christmas brings presents. Children write letters to him and then toss them into the fireplace where he reads their requests in the smoke. The day after Christmas is Boxing Day, so called because people used to collect money in boxes made out of clay, which they distributed to the poor.
Most of America’s Christmas traditions trace back to Victorian times in England. Everything from Christmas stockings to “A Christmas Carol” originated there.
Christmas is an important holiday all over the world. Whether you’re decorating a tree or buying gifts, Christmas is the one holiday that transcends cultural differences and draws people together. Have a very Merry Christmas!
All writing courses are only $177 until the end of the year. Don't miss out on this great bargain at http://www.creativewritinginstitute.com.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Thursday, December 15, 2011
CONTEST WINNERS ANNOUNCED
SHORT STORY CONTEST WINNERS
Thank you to our judges: Head judge - Jo Popek - and judges Mr. Lynn Carroll and Annie Evett. Without them, there would have been no contest. Many thanks! Here are their decisions for Creative Writing Institute's Third Annual Beginner's Writing Contest:
1st place: Secrets Best Kept by Diane Davis
2nd place: Annabell Hated Being Asian by Michelle Yu (age 15)
3rd place: Apples, Pumpkins, or Manure by Shirley Dilley
Honorable mentions: Helen Crall, Sneha Koilada, Shirley Dilley
Read 2nd place, 3rd place and honorable mention stories here:
http://www.cwinst.com/ContestWinners.php
And now for our first place winner's story in it's entirety...
SECRETS BEST KEPT by Diane Davis (See Diane's bio at the bottom)
Rachel pulled the last box out of her mother’s closet and set it on the bed. Putting her fists in the small of her back, she stretched her aching back and rolled her shoulders. With a sigh she opened the flaps. She had delayed long enough. The cleaning service was due this afternoon.A loud clang from the kitchen indicated her older sister, Sylvia, had things moving along in there. Packing up the debris from the life of a sixty-two-year-old woman was physically exhausting, but when she was your mother it was emotionally taxing too.
Rachel pulled a pink baby afghan out of the box and laid it aside. She didn’t know whose it was, but she and Sylvia would never have kids. Maybe she’d give it to the Cradle Guild at church. Next came a jumble of stuff. A tassel from a graduation cap, a Kewpie doll, an old Timex, a pair of baby shoes.
At the bottom of the box she found a small brown notebook bound with a thick rubber band. The cover had no writing on it, front or back. Rachel started to take off the rubber band, but hesitated. It felt wrong, digging through Mama’s personal things like this. She had been a private person, loving but reserved, even with her family. Now that she was gone, Rachel felt like she was violating some unwritten rule. But she couldn’t throw the notebook away without looking at it. After all, there may be something important in there. She pulled off the rubber band and opened the cover before she could change her mind.
In the upper right-hand corner of page one was what looked like a date:14 Juni, 1968. The page was crammed with line after line of her mother’s fluid cursive, but Rachel couldn’t understand a word of it because it was in—German? Did her mother speak German?
Flipping through the rest of the notebook, Rachel’s unease grew. She didn’t know what this meant, but she sensed it was bad. Why would Mama have a diary written in a language she never spoke in everyday life? Had she been hiding something?
Rachel’s first impulse was to show it to her sister. After all, Sylvia was thirteen years her senior—maybe she would remember a time when Mama spoke German. Rachel almost called out to her, but the words died unuttered. Her sister had taken Mama’s death hard. That’s why Rachel had the task of packing their mother’s room. Sylvia had finally managed to achieve a certain amount of calm. Showing her the notebook might send her on another crying jag. Besides, maybe it was nothing.
Slipping the notebook into her purse, she decided to find a translator. If it turned out to be harmless as she hoped, she would show it to her sister when the time was right.
* * *
Weeks passed. Rachel had forgotten about the notebook after she scanned the pages and emailed them to a college friend who knew a German language major. Now it was tucked away in the bottom drawer of her nightstand under a half-finished novel and a crossword book. Life went on.
The packet came on a Saturday. Rachel sat at the kitchen table staring at it, torn between the urge to burn it and curiosity over the contents. Once she opened it and read the translation, there would be no going back. Not knowing would drive her crazy, but did she want to deal with the revelations it might contain, good or bad?
Grabbing the packet, she tore it open and pulled out the loose pages. The cover letter was a courtly salutation followed by a polite request for payment, signed by the translator. Her hands shook as she laid it aside and started to read the text.
The first dozen pages related everyday anecdotes about Sylvia and Father, along with notes about her rosebushes, and various church activities. Rachel scanned them, charmed by the light tone of the entries. Her mother seemed to be happy in those days.
At page thirteen, the tone became dark and frightened and angry. Rachel’s reading pace slowed as she tried to comprehend the horrible things her mother had written. She reread portions, too stunned to take it all in. By the end, tears streamed down her face and sobs clawed at her throat. It was much worse than she had ever imagined.
Hilda didn’t know when the incest began, but she gradually became aware of subtle clues. Sylvia shrank from touching her father and avoided direct eye contact with everyone. She had always been shy, but every day she became more withdrawn. Her appetite decreased and she rarely smiled. Finally Hilda was so worried she took her to the doctor. That’s when she learned the depth of her husband’s depravity.
Twelve-year-old Sylvia was pregnant, and Hilda suspected her husband was the father. The family would never survive the shame. To be so young and unmarried and pregnant was bad enough, but to bear a child of incest was horrible. There was only one thing to do.
Hilda put the word out that she was pregnant then took Sylvia with her to stay with a friend in Phoenix until the baby was born. She told her friends that her doctor had recommended the drier climate so her asthma wouldn’t flare up and endanger the baby’s life. After the child was born, Sylvia and Hilda brought her home with nobody the wiser. Rachel grew up blissfully unaware that her loving older sister was her mother, and her mother was actually her grandmother.
Robert never touched Sylvia again, as far as Hilda could tell. Perhaps her threat to go to the police scared him into compliance. But it seemed his depravity only went dormant for a dozen years.
To her horror, she noticed that he began to pay special attention to Rachel. He touched her frequently and his hands lingered on her arm or back. He insisted she kiss him on the lips and he hugged her tight, often pulling her onto his lap. Hilda knew she had to do something before it was too late.
She couldn’t let history repeat itself.
Over the next few days she began to put digitalis in his food, gradually increasing the dose. Never one to go to the doctor, he stayed in bed, forcing fluid even though he kept vomiting, trying to sleep in spite of his splitting headache. Two days later he was dead of a heart attack.
Rachel laid the last page down. She stared at the wall as she struggled to find her balance in this new topsy-turvy paradigm. Her grandmother had killed her father to save her from incest, and her mother was alive. Why she wrote it down, and more importantly, why she wrote the whole tale in German were mysteries that had died with Hilda.
Her mother was alive! Smiling for the first time in hours, Rachel jumped up and rushed to the phone, but she put the receiver back after dialing a few numbers. She covered her mouth as a fresh round of tears rolled down her cheeks.
Sylvia had lived with the pain of this secret for years. Would it be more painful for her if she knew Rachel had learned the truth? Or would it be better to go on as sisters with a close, loving relationship?
Sinking back into her chair, she closed her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath. Letting go of the tension, sadness and fear, she opened herself to accept everything the diary had revealed. She was still the same person she had been before reading Hilda’s words. There would be time to decide what to do with the knowledge later.
The phone interrupted her meditation. She checked the caller ID and her smile came through in her voice when she answered.
“Hello, Sylvia. I was just thinking about you.”
About the Author
Diane Davis, an Arizona native, is a happily married mother of two with a life-long passion for words. She's had ten short stories and an essay published in online ezines like Long Story Short, Menopause Press and FlashShots, and won first place in Phyllis Scott Publishing's short story contest. Diane's goal is to become a novelist.
____________________________________________________________
CHRISTMAS SALE on WRITING COURSES at http://www.creativewritinginstitute.com until Dec. 31, 2011. All courses now only $177. Eight weeks in length with your own private tutor. It just doesn't get any better than that! Payment plan available. See the site for more details.
Thank you to our judges: Head judge - Jo Popek - and judges Mr. Lynn Carroll and Annie Evett. Without them, there would have been no contest. Many thanks! Here are their decisions for Creative Writing Institute's Third Annual Beginner's Writing Contest:
1st place: Secrets Best Kept by Diane Davis
2nd place: Annabell Hated Being Asian by Michelle Yu (age 15)
3rd place: Apples, Pumpkins, or Manure by Shirley Dilley
Honorable mentions: Helen Crall, Sneha Koilada, Shirley Dilley
Read 2nd place, 3rd place and honorable mention stories here:
http://www.cwinst.com/ContestWinners.php
And now for our first place winner's story in it's entirety...
SECRETS BEST KEPT by Diane Davis (See Diane's bio at the bottom)
Rachel pulled the last box out of her mother’s closet and set it on the bed. Putting her fists in the small of her back, she stretched her aching back and rolled her shoulders. With a sigh she opened the flaps. She had delayed long enough. The cleaning service was due this afternoon.A loud clang from the kitchen indicated her older sister, Sylvia, had things moving along in there. Packing up the debris from the life of a sixty-two-year-old woman was physically exhausting, but when she was your mother it was emotionally taxing too.
Rachel pulled a pink baby afghan out of the box and laid it aside. She didn’t know whose it was, but she and Sylvia would never have kids. Maybe she’d give it to the Cradle Guild at church. Next came a jumble of stuff. A tassel from a graduation cap, a Kewpie doll, an old Timex, a pair of baby shoes.
At the bottom of the box she found a small brown notebook bound with a thick rubber band. The cover had no writing on it, front or back. Rachel started to take off the rubber band, but hesitated. It felt wrong, digging through Mama’s personal things like this. She had been a private person, loving but reserved, even with her family. Now that she was gone, Rachel felt like she was violating some unwritten rule. But she couldn’t throw the notebook away without looking at it. After all, there may be something important in there. She pulled off the rubber band and opened the cover before she could change her mind.
In the upper right-hand corner of page one was what looked like a date:14 Juni, 1968. The page was crammed with line after line of her mother’s fluid cursive, but Rachel couldn’t understand a word of it because it was in—German? Did her mother speak German?
Flipping through the rest of the notebook, Rachel’s unease grew. She didn’t know what this meant, but she sensed it was bad. Why would Mama have a diary written in a language she never spoke in everyday life? Had she been hiding something?
Rachel’s first impulse was to show it to her sister. After all, Sylvia was thirteen years her senior—maybe she would remember a time when Mama spoke German. Rachel almost called out to her, but the words died unuttered. Her sister had taken Mama’s death hard. That’s why Rachel had the task of packing their mother’s room. Sylvia had finally managed to achieve a certain amount of calm. Showing her the notebook might send her on another crying jag. Besides, maybe it was nothing.
Slipping the notebook into her purse, she decided to find a translator. If it turned out to be harmless as she hoped, she would show it to her sister when the time was right.
* * *
Weeks passed. Rachel had forgotten about the notebook after she scanned the pages and emailed them to a college friend who knew a German language major. Now it was tucked away in the bottom drawer of her nightstand under a half-finished novel and a crossword book. Life went on.
The packet came on a Saturday. Rachel sat at the kitchen table staring at it, torn between the urge to burn it and curiosity over the contents. Once she opened it and read the translation, there would be no going back. Not knowing would drive her crazy, but did she want to deal with the revelations it might contain, good or bad?
Grabbing the packet, she tore it open and pulled out the loose pages. The cover letter was a courtly salutation followed by a polite request for payment, signed by the translator. Her hands shook as she laid it aside and started to read the text.
The first dozen pages related everyday anecdotes about Sylvia and Father, along with notes about her rosebushes, and various church activities. Rachel scanned them, charmed by the light tone of the entries. Her mother seemed to be happy in those days.
At page thirteen, the tone became dark and frightened and angry. Rachel’s reading pace slowed as she tried to comprehend the horrible things her mother had written. She reread portions, too stunned to take it all in. By the end, tears streamed down her face and sobs clawed at her throat. It was much worse than she had ever imagined.
Hilda didn’t know when the incest began, but she gradually became aware of subtle clues. Sylvia shrank from touching her father and avoided direct eye contact with everyone. She had always been shy, but every day she became more withdrawn. Her appetite decreased and she rarely smiled. Finally Hilda was so worried she took her to the doctor. That’s when she learned the depth of her husband’s depravity.
Twelve-year-old Sylvia was pregnant, and Hilda suspected her husband was the father. The family would never survive the shame. To be so young and unmarried and pregnant was bad enough, but to bear a child of incest was horrible. There was only one thing to do.
Hilda put the word out that she was pregnant then took Sylvia with her to stay with a friend in Phoenix until the baby was born. She told her friends that her doctor had recommended the drier climate so her asthma wouldn’t flare up and endanger the baby’s life. After the child was born, Sylvia and Hilda brought her home with nobody the wiser. Rachel grew up blissfully unaware that her loving older sister was her mother, and her mother was actually her grandmother.
Robert never touched Sylvia again, as far as Hilda could tell. Perhaps her threat to go to the police scared him into compliance. But it seemed his depravity only went dormant for a dozen years.
To her horror, she noticed that he began to pay special attention to Rachel. He touched her frequently and his hands lingered on her arm or back. He insisted she kiss him on the lips and he hugged her tight, often pulling her onto his lap. Hilda knew she had to do something before it was too late.
She couldn’t let history repeat itself.
Over the next few days she began to put digitalis in his food, gradually increasing the dose. Never one to go to the doctor, he stayed in bed, forcing fluid even though he kept vomiting, trying to sleep in spite of his splitting headache. Two days later he was dead of a heart attack.
Rachel laid the last page down. She stared at the wall as she struggled to find her balance in this new topsy-turvy paradigm. Her grandmother had killed her father to save her from incest, and her mother was alive. Why she wrote it down, and more importantly, why she wrote the whole tale in German were mysteries that had died with Hilda.
Her mother was alive! Smiling for the first time in hours, Rachel jumped up and rushed to the phone, but she put the receiver back after dialing a few numbers. She covered her mouth as a fresh round of tears rolled down her cheeks.
Sylvia had lived with the pain of this secret for years. Would it be more painful for her if she knew Rachel had learned the truth? Or would it be better to go on as sisters with a close, loving relationship?
Sinking back into her chair, she closed her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath. Letting go of the tension, sadness and fear, she opened herself to accept everything the diary had revealed. She was still the same person she had been before reading Hilda’s words. There would be time to decide what to do with the knowledge later.
The phone interrupted her meditation. She checked the caller ID and her smile came through in her voice when she answered.
“Hello, Sylvia. I was just thinking about you.”
About the Author
Diane Davis, an Arizona native, is a happily married mother of two with a life-long passion for words. She's had ten short stories and an essay published in online ezines like Long Story Short, Menopause Press and FlashShots, and won first place in Phyllis Scott Publishing's short story contest. Diane's goal is to become a novelist.
____________________________________________________________
CHRISTMAS SALE on WRITING COURSES at http://www.creativewritinginstitute.com until Dec. 31, 2011. All courses now only $177. Eight weeks in length with your own private tutor. It just doesn't get any better than that! Payment plan available. See the site for more details.
Monday, December 5, 2011
CHRISTMAS SALE – Every Writing Course $177 w/a PRIVATE TUTOR
CHRISTMAS WRITING SALE! $200 NOW $177 with a private tutor.
Sale ends December 31, 2011. Reserve your seat before classes fill up. Can’t afford the tuition? Buy on the payment plan – four payments of $50 every second week. You will receive a $23 REBATE in February or March.
*Practical Gifts for the Writer*
Writers the world around want relevant gifts to encourage their hearts, make creative writing easier, prevent writer’s block, and increase their stash of writing tools. Sit on Ho Ho’s knee and ask for these cool items:
1. A writing course, of course, at http://www.creativewritinginstitute.com.
2. The Chicago Manual of Style by University of Chicago, about $35 on Amazon.com, or The Elements of Style by William Strunk, Jr., $10 and up. These are excellent reference books. They will answer all your questions about grammar and give you guidance in literary composition. A must have for any writer.
3. The Writer’s Market – Learn the latest from editors and those in the know! This is the best marketing resource I’ve ever found. It’s easy to understand, easy to use, offers a variety of support tools, names the editors, and points you to the right market to sell your work. Ask for the online edition because they update it monthly whereas the book is updated yearly. Find it at writersmarket.com for $30-$40, depending on which one you choose. A must have for every selling writer!
4. The Writer Magazine – highly recommended. Stay up to date on trends at http://www.writermag.com/en/sitecore/content/Home/The%20Magazine/Current%20Issue.aspx
5. A writing journal to record the events of your life.
6. Business cards – tell Santa what color you would like and what you want them to say – or make your own on good card stock!
7. Personalized stationary for that “special” correspondence – or – make your own!
8. Great books on writing: Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg (for ideas and motivation); Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life by Anne Lamott (highly recommended); On Writing by Stephen King (half autobiography and half lessons for writers); On Writing Well, The Classic Guide to Writing Nonfiction by William Zinsser (lots of non-fiction writing tips). Don’t forget that you can buy used books on Amazon.com.
9. A ream of paper to print your creations (specify exactly what weight you want)
10. Printer ink
11. A gift certificate from a bookstore.
Get more writing tips in Creative Writing Institute’s newsletter, The Writer’s Choice, at http://www.creativewritinginstitute.com, and don’t forget our huge Christmas Sale.
Ho, ho, ho. MERRY CHRISTMAS!
Posted in writing tips | Tagged Christmas Sale, editing, publishing, romance, Writer's Resources, writers, writing, Writing Christmas gifts, Writing Sale, writing tips
Sale ends December 31, 2011. Reserve your seat before classes fill up. Can’t afford the tuition? Buy on the payment plan – four payments of $50 every second week. You will receive a $23 REBATE in February or March.
*Practical Gifts for the Writer*
Writers the world around want relevant gifts to encourage their hearts, make creative writing easier, prevent writer’s block, and increase their stash of writing tools. Sit on Ho Ho’s knee and ask for these cool items:
1. A writing course, of course, at http://www.creativewritinginstitute.com.
2. The Chicago Manual of Style by University of Chicago, about $35 on Amazon.com, or The Elements of Style by William Strunk, Jr., $10 and up. These are excellent reference books. They will answer all your questions about grammar and give you guidance in literary composition. A must have for any writer.
3. The Writer’s Market – Learn the latest from editors and those in the know! This is the best marketing resource I’ve ever found. It’s easy to understand, easy to use, offers a variety of support tools, names the editors, and points you to the right market to sell your work. Ask for the online edition because they update it monthly whereas the book is updated yearly. Find it at writersmarket.com for $30-$40, depending on which one you choose. A must have for every selling writer!
4. The Writer Magazine – highly recommended. Stay up to date on trends at http://www.writermag.com/en/sitecore/content/Home/The%20Magazine/Current%20Issue.aspx
5. A writing journal to record the events of your life.
6. Business cards – tell Santa what color you would like and what you want them to say – or make your own on good card stock!
7. Personalized stationary for that “special” correspondence – or – make your own!
8. Great books on writing: Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg (for ideas and motivation); Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life by Anne Lamott (highly recommended); On Writing by Stephen King (half autobiography and half lessons for writers); On Writing Well, The Classic Guide to Writing Nonfiction by William Zinsser (lots of non-fiction writing tips). Don’t forget that you can buy used books on Amazon.com.
9. A ream of paper to print your creations (specify exactly what weight you want)
10. Printer ink
11. A gift certificate from a bookstore.
Get more writing tips in Creative Writing Institute’s newsletter, The Writer’s Choice, at http://www.creativewritinginstitute.com, and don’t forget our huge Christmas Sale.
Ho, ho, ho. MERRY CHRISTMAS!
Posted in writing tips | Tagged Christmas Sale, editing, publishing, romance, Writer's Resources, writers, writing, Writing Christmas gifts, Writing Sale, writing tips
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