Of Christmas Past and Present
Imagine for a moment that you are the ghost of Christmas past, and find yourself gazing in at the window of a Mennonite home, somewhere in the rainforest of Belize. Palm leaves are swaying gently in the moonlight, bats are just beginning to emerge from the dense jungle a few feet away, fireflies flicker over the muddy rutted yard. A cold wind accompanied by a fine dreary drizzle is causing chickens and other pets to huddle against each other for warmth. Yet inside the main room of the plain weather-beaten clapboard house, the weather is the last thing on the minds of the individuals who, wrapped warmly in sweaters, jackets and wool blankets, have fully given themselves over to the joy of the moment. Old but gold Christmas carols are enthusiastically sung by all without the accompaniment of any instrument. No matter that tomorrow Sunday they would spend a few hours battling knee-deep muck and mud on their way to church. No matter that the river is flooded and supplies have been dangerously low. Those worries are shoved aside to be dealt with tomorrow. White-haired grandparents reminisce of bygone Christmases on the frozen prairies of Canada while those younger ones share their memories of cold but dry Christmases in central Mexico. Teenagers munch on whoopie-pies, listening enrapt to these stories; a few adventurous boys brave the cold wind and rain on the porch as they strive to get a glimpse of the tractor by the light of a kerosene lantern. The little ones chatter ceaselessly about their simple yet much treasured toys received from parents or uncles and aunts. Rag dolls, wooden tractors, storybooks, paper bags stuffed with peanuts, rare apples and a few lollipops. Were it not for those items, the viewer would assume this was an ordinary family reunion for there are no decorations whatsover to indicate that this is a Christmas gathering. No tree in a corner, no sprigs of holly, no wreath of poinsettias on the door, no decorations wrapped around the porch pillar. They are Mennonites, after all. Brighter than the glow of the kerosene lamp on the table is that light which radiates from that of a home where reigns the atmosphere of simplicity, unity, peace, and contentment.
Now stride a few decades into the future as the ghost of Christmas present. A stately mansion presides over a picturesque lawn. The jungles have long since disappeared. In front of the house, several expensive vehicles are parked as well as a variety of motorcycles. Electric lights cast a cold yet bright light over the individuals scattered in and around the house. A few small Christmas decorations are sprinkled throughout the house. Out on the lawn under the yard light, a few boys are testing out their various Christmas gifts. Air rifles, new Iphones, a new motorcycle, a smart watch. Some of them have a suspicious scent of tobacco on them, two of them have shoulder length hair, three of them are shaved bald and wear a gold chain around their necks. One of them is listening to the wailing of Jonny Cash while two of them are analyzing Eminem’s latest release. Other boys are engrossed in a Youtube video on the desktop in one of the rooms. Yet more boys are on a corner of the porch, whispering to each other about something they saw on Facebook. The girls are no different. Once the main meal was over, they also scatter into various age groups; some to discuss their secret “spanish” boyfriends, others ponder the consequence of acquiring a tattoo.Earlier that day many of these present had attended a Christmas parade complete with drums and trumpets, even mischievously donning Santa Claus regalia for a brief moment. The older men sit in a circle gravely discussing politics and diesel engines while scrolling through their Whatsapp messages, occasionally exclaiming over a particularly interesting picture that a relative in Canada sent. Due to several of them coming from different Mennonite faiths and carrying strong opinions about each other’s beliefs, the subject of religion is carefully avoided. Next week they will resume their lofty positions of ruthless and shrewd business competitors but for today they cheerfully accept the fact that they are blood brothers, born of one mother and any business hostility is cautiously wrapped up and temporarily suspended. In another room, some of the women are seriously considering discarding their current dishwasher, even though it is still in prime condition, for a much more modern one. Others are wondering why two freezers and a refrigerator are simply not enough cold storage space. Grandma requests a Christmas hymn. Throats are cleared, some of the boys yawn with disinterest, a few girls look shyly at each other. Slowly, almost reluctantly, a few stand up and begin singing, more out of respect for Grandma than for anything else.
What will the ghost of Christmas yet to come reveal to us?
What will the ghost of Christmas yet to come reveal to us?
Girls perform at a Christmas parade. There are Mennonites who now attend such festivities.
Nativity scenes like this one now decorate some Mennonite homes as well as Christmas lights.
A. Mendoza
