My father Peter Barrett passed away two weeks before Christmas, four years ago. The Christmas season was a special time for him, in terms of faith and tradition. He had wonderful Christmases growing up in Irrras in County Mayo - all magical occasions. Fortunately, he put pen to paper and shared with us his own memories of Christmases during his childhood days. Here is a piece he wrote in which he shared some of his memories with us:

When I think now of Christmases long ago, the memories come to me slowly, vaguely, at first, but after spending a little time fishing in the deep lake of the years, the same memories come back to me then in a clear, accurate outpouring. A flood of memories that makes the soul dance on a slab inside my heart.

Come with me, then, back to the end of the twenties, to the beautiful land of my youth, to Iorras na n'Iontas. The memories that swim to me now, on that wave of memories, are of bare, desolate fields. On the screen of memory, I see bright candles up through black, brittle clay of Iorras, as we used to spend our pre-Christmas days as boys chasing the wren - and I have to admit now, that we used to find not many wrens in those same desolate fields. I used to think that the wrens of Iorras would go into hiding at that time of year, just in case! Other birds used to be quite plentiful, starlings, sparrows, cranes, and the like. Rarely, then, did we manage to find a wren, in time for Stephen's Day, and in the end, we had no choice but to go out with a lantern, on Christmas Day night, to catch a sleepy old sparrow, in the eaves.

Sparrow or Wren?

Is soiléir a thagann cuimhní an ullmhúcháin do Lá an Dreoilín chugam anois. Aighthe fidil á ndéanamh agus á ndathú. Bataí, boscaí, agus buataisí á gcuardach. Amhráin, ranna, agus damhsaí á gcleachtadh. Ó, sea, agus gúnaí, hataí, agus bibeanna ár ndeirfiúracha, á dtógáil ar iasacht, do Lá draíochta an Dreoilín!

Bhímis ar ar gcois le moiche na maidine, agus bóthar buailte againn sula mbeadh deis ag gasúir eile na háite, airgead, uibheacha, nó ollmhaitheas, na comharsanachta a bhailiú chucu fhéin, mar chreach Nollaigiúil. Bhíodh tús bóthair againne orthu, agus bhímis sásta i gcónaí lenár gcreach, i ndeireadh an lae thiar. Nach ait an scéal é, ach i scannán sin an Dreoilín, ní airímse aon fhuacht, nó sioc, nó sneachta, riamh. Boige, úire, agus Earrachas, a shníonn chugam isteach ar thonn na cuimhne anois, i gcás an Dreoilín chéanna sin.

But let's drop it as a story, and let's return to those Christmases of memory, Christmases of dreams, because it was on them that I drew the story, in the first place. When I think of them now, I think first of the Christmas Season. That season, for us, began on the first day of December. On that day, we started with an old Irish custom, the ‘Áibhéanna’ custom. We believed that the one who said five thousand "Aibhés" between then and Christmas Day would get his wish. We were saying them everywhere, at school, at home, on the road and travel, yes, and we would give that wish as a gift to Mom, on Christmas Eve, when she was tired, exhausted, after buying and dressing the Christmas for us.

Memories returning

Other memories that come to me now are:-

•  The Great Christmas Fair in Belmullet on the 15th of December.

•  Margadh Mór na Nollag, ar an Satharn roimh Nollaig, ’chuile bhliain.

•  The Big Fire of Christmas, it was the big fire that was lit on Christmas Eve.

•  Christmas cakes, the cakes that Mom used to bake and cook for Christmas, cakes that contained raisins, spices, and other nice things, to lift our hearts, in the blessed season of Christmas.

•  The heat of the kitchen, decorations, charity, and above all, the big colored Christmas candle.

•  Us children also had another little habit in Iorras, at that time. We would get small tin boxes, and we would clean and wash them, then Mum would give us a small bit of dough from her big Christmas cake, and we would bake those bits for ourselves in the oven. That way, we used to have our own little Christmas cakes!

Merry Christmas to all our Readers!!

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