Santa has changed
Don Coldsmith
Monday, December 22, 2008
OUR CULTURE has a wonderful tradition of adapting, modifying and absorbing culture traits of other cultures through the centuries. Our days of the week are actually named for Norse gods and goddesses (except for Sun Day and Moon Day, of course).
The goddess of fertility, Oestre, is associated with all new life, reproduction, fertility and femininity. She gives her name to “estrogen,” perhaps the most important of female hormones. She is closely associated with rabbits and eggs because of their links to fertility. This becomes a part of the New Life tie-in and we call the special occasion “Easter” after the goddess; hence all the rabbits and baby chicks at that time.
Christmas displays an even more wide-spread collection of strange customs. Not long ago we were celebrating All Saints Day, which was preceded by the evening before, “Hallowed Evening,” now Halloween. There is one surviving witch on a broom, most recently sighted in Italy. Her name is La Befana and her job description is really strange. She flies over the housetops and drops Christmas presents down the chimney. Apparently, Santa has had a difficult time finding good help. (You know how the elves are, since they unionized).
Santa has sub-contracted the delivery in Spain to the Three Wise Men, who bring gifts, as in the original story. But, they are always late. They arrive on January 6th, the eve of Epiphany. It’s believed that they were somewhat late the first time, too. (It has been suggested that if they had been three wise WOMEN, they would have stopped to ask directions, arrived on time, helped deliver the baby, cleaned the stable, made a casserole and brought really practical gifts).
In Japan, “Uncle Chimney,” in a bright kimono, brings gifts and they all eat strawberry shortcake and “special kinds” of sushi. (I don’t even want to know).
Northern Europe embraces a wide variety of customs. December 13 is St. Lucia’s Day. Lucia is identified with a white gown and a wreath of bread or cake, worn on the head, complete with lighted candles. Children, dressed in this way, bring their parents breakfast in bed. (Talk about a nightmare — your kids bringing you breakfast in bed, wearing lighted candles on their heads?)
Celebration goes on, in Sweden, until 20 days after Christmas, when a party called JULGRANS PLUNDRING occurs, with song and dance, culminated by throwing the Christmas tree out the window or door. (Usually that would be a bit early, at our house).
Speaking of Christmas trees, they were considered a blasphemy and a pagan celebration in the early United States and rejected as tree worship. Massachusetts actually had laws forbidding Christmas trees for many years.
In England, there were stiff penalties at one time for even celebrating “the occasion known as Christmas.”
Santa Claus — actually a real saint, around whom a great many myths and changes have grown up. We have in the family an old toy made by my grandfather more than a century ago. It’s a Santa Claus jumping jack and it still works. Santa wasn’t fat yet and he wore blue trousers and knee boots. At that time, Santa was a powerful force for good behavior. Well-behaved kids received a toy and candy, and misbehaving ones, a lump of coal in their stocking. (If fuel prices keep going up, that lump of coal might look pretty good).
I hate to see, though, a generation of little kids who don’t even question whether Santa will bring them toys. Their only question is what toys, no connection with behavior at all. The whole population seems to think that somehow we’re entitled to all the good things, no matter how we behave. Santa asks kids in the mall what they want — not whether they deserve it. Even going to a fast food place, children expect a reward — probably a cheap plastic toy that they’ll play with for about two minutes. Then, it will be stuffed in the closet with the bushels of other forgotten cheap plastic toys.
How are these kids going to adjust to the real world? I think Santa has changed a little too much.
See you down the road.
Author and columnist Don Coldsmith lives in Emporia.