Good old days yuletide

Whenever I think about the yuletide season, it always takes me down memory lane, which was during my childhood days. Christmas back then was warm, simple, and full of meaning. It wasn't even about fancy decorations or expensive gifts, not even about matching pajamas. It was love, family, and all the little things that made me feel alive. Each time the season comes around, it brings smiles to my face.

One of my favorite memories is the oversized shoes and shoulder-pad gown. Aha! I won't forget one Christmas I refused to wear my clothes and follow others to the village square. In fact, why should I, when my mother has taken our shoe size with a broom and still ended up buying an oversized shoe? When I told her the shoes were too big for me, she asked me to use paper and put it inside, at the rate at which I am growing tall. She might end up buying shoes for me every month. So I should manage this one so that I will grow into them. I was so unhappy and frustrated that day. I kept murmuring and complaining to anybody who cared to listen. Then came the clothes. I hated clothes with shoulder pads, and my mother went to buy them for me. She told me it makes me look decent and a child of God. Well, innocent me. I believed her and was happy.

Until I wore it to go out with my cousins and they started making fun of my clothes, that's how I ran inside and started crying; I refused to go out. But trust Mother's, since the shoulder pad was the problem, she removed it immediately, if you see the way she used that pad to mend my shoes. You will laugh. I was nicknamed Jesus baby by my cousins that year because my gown was sweeping the floor.

One thing my mom doesn't miss is my hair; she will wake me up very early and take me to a roadside salon to braid my hair. She will never miss buying beads all white; my brother's hair will be barbed skin. Oh, I miss those good old sayings. Yuletide was also the time when family members came home together. Relatives who lived far away would return, and the house would suddenly feel alive. There was always laughter, noise, and endless conversations. People shared stories, jokes, and memories, sometimes staying up late into the night. It was a season where everyone put aside their worries just to enjoy being together. Seeing the whole family under one roof was one of the happiest feelings for me.

One of the most beautiful parts of those celebrations was how we ate together. Food was served in a massive tray placed in the middle, and we all gathered around it. We didn’t use spoons; we ate with our hands, side by side. There was no separation, no special treatment, just family sharing one meal. We laughed, teased each other, and enjoyed every bite. That big tray symbolized unity, togetherness, and love. There is always a fight about who eats too fast and who always cheats, but my grandma will never stop putting food together for us, no matter how we complain.

Even now, as an adult, those Yuletide memories remain my favorite. They remind me that joy doesn’t come from wealth or perfection, but from love, family, and shared moments. That is what the Yuletide season truly means to me.

Images is Ai generated.

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