Anita Sumariwalla

I remember, when I was very young (about four or five years old), on December 24th afternoons my sister and I had to wait in a bedroom while our mother prepared the Christmas tree in the living room. The afternoon seemed endless. Around five o’clock it was getting dark outside. About at that time our mother rang a bell indicating that we were allowed to come to the living room. There, the Christmas tree, adorned with real candles and shiny ‘Kugeln’ reflecting the candle lights, stood majestically in the middle of the room. That moment of seeing this silent magical splendor remains with me!

In the weeks before Christmas (Advent) we had to learn Christmas poems and songs by heart. Before we were allowed to open our gift, we (that is – for me) had to endure the boring reading of the Christmas story – frequently interrupted by having to recite a poem or sing Christmas songs… In later years, I knew the Christmas story by heart. I had to recite it with my classmates at various hospitals and ‘old people’s homes’! When I was in the second grade, I was asked (as before) to recite the Christmas story… I surprised the audience with my own – more lively and picturesque – version of the Christmas story. I remember the amazed eyes of people in the audience – I expected to get into trouble later by my teacher… Instead, from then on I was asked to repeat ‘my version’ for several years to come. — I still remember it!