“Mama, look, I’m going to peek!” I giggled and moved my hand as if to open the makeshift curtain covering our living room entrance, watching my mother’s reaction.

She smiled, serene. “If you want to ruin the surprise, go right ahead.”

That gave me pause; I flounced my pigtails and ran off to play. It was Christmas Eve at the Gantenbein house, and the living room was strictly off limits, because ever since I could remember, Mama observed a certain German tradition…

The night before, my parents tucked us into bed early to decorate the living room “in secret.” I laid in bed listening to footsteps going back and forth, the front door open and the swish of Christmas tree branches, the murmur of low voices, the rustle of wrapping paper. What presents would be under the tree for me? It was enough to drive any kid wild with anticipation—I didn’t fall asleep for a long time.

Christmas Eve dawned and we children woke to find the white sheet hung over the living room doorway. At breakfast we could hardly contain our excitement.

“When are we celebrating, Mama?”

“Tonight after dinner, but not until after you do the dishes!” She wagged a threatening finger, eyes twinkling.

The day seemed to drag. My brother, sister and I chased each other from corner to kitchen corner, skating recklessly across the slippery floor in our woolen slippers. When Mama had all the noise and commotion she could take, she shooed us away, “Can’t you find somewhere else to play, other than where I’m working?” After all, she was busy with preparations!

It was still daylight when Mama glanced at the clock and looked surprised, “Meine guete, I can’t believe it’s already time to make dinner!” I quickly set the table and helped make the salad—anything to hurry the arrival of Christmas.

During dinner Mama and Papi made conversation, but my mind was elsewhere. What wonders would I find in the Christmas room? What surprises hidden under the tree? I fidgeted in my chair. How long were they going to talk?

Finally the big moment came. My parents disappeared behind the white sheet, and soon we heard our signal to enter the room—the tinkle of Mama’s Christmas bell. The three of us formed a little procession playing recorders, our “flutes,” as we filed into the room.

Mama and Papi’s faces shone with delight as we entered. “That was beautiful music.” They lavished us with praise. “Well done.”

Though we followed the same tradition year after year, the Christmas room never failed to fill me with wonder and awe. “What a beautiful tree,” I said softly. I gazed at the white candles shining from its branches. They seemed to cast a celestial light among the glittering icicles. A plate of pfefferkuchen and anise cookies sat on a table, along with some oranges, dried apples, and chocolate. The advent wreath with its glowing red candles added another festive touch. And oh, look here! All my dolls sat primly on the couch, wearing the cutest new dresses Mama had sewn for them! And over there! Look at that barn Papi had built for my brother, complete with cows, horses and other farm animals!

With shining eyes, Mama invited us to sit by the tree, and we children approached reverently. Our family always first celebrated the real reason for Christmas before opening presents. Papi solemnly opened the old German Bible and read the story of Mary and Joseph and the Baby Jesus. I watched the flickering candles, and as his voice rose and fell, my mind sometimes drifted, dreaming. Then one by one we children stood to recite our Christmas memory verses. “Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to men…” Quietly Mama began singing and we all joined in…Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht… Every so often I stole a glance at the colorful packages under the tree.

Finally Papi closed in prayer, and Mama sighed deeply. “Well…shall we open presents?”

We children leaped toward the tree but Mama cried, “Halt! We are going to do this in an orderly manner!”

She selected a gift and handed it to my little sister. “So, let’s start with the youngest. You will each get your turn.”

Soon only one present remained. Mama pulled it from beneath the pine boughs and smiled at me, “This was sent from Grossmama in Switzerland for Ruthie!” Really, for me?

I tore away the wrapping and opened the box. There lay the prettiest doll I had ever seen—a little Swiss girl with blond braids, rosy cheeks, and clear blue eyes.* She wore a black and white checkered coat and white patent leather shoes with lacy socks. If you tipped her over she said, “Mama.” I immediately named her Heidi and took her off to a corner to play.

All too soon Mama announced, “Nun liebe Kinder, you see what time it is. Now off to bed.”

“No, sir! We don’t have to go yet,” my brother said triumphantly with an impish grin.

“What do you mean?” Mama looked stern.

“I set the clock an hour ahead so we could come in here early.”

“What? I don’t believe it.” Mama checked her watch against the clock. “Why, you sure did!” She laughed, “You little rascal! How did you ever…?”

The rascal looked pretty proud of himself. I grinned at him. He was quite alright as a little brother.

And Mama let us stay up.

***

I’ve often thought that my childhood Christmases gave a little glimpse of heaven. Someday the white sheet (the earthly veil) will be removed; the bell (trumpet) will sound and our Heavenly Father will invite us to enter the “room prepared for us.” He, too, will welcome us at the entrance with delight saying, “Well done.” Imagine our  joyful amazement when we lay eyes on the place and the gifts He’s prepared for us.

Heaven will surely be Christmas every day.

***

*At bedtime my mother returned my new doll to her box, explaining that Heidi was so special, we’d need to take extra good care of her. She promised I could play with her every Sunday afternoon for a few hours. This became a cherished routine I looked forward to and actually helped preserve the doll. Though I did give Heidi one unfortunate haircut, a little snip of the bangs, she remained in good condition and beautiful as ever. These days she sits on my dresser in a lacy peach dress wearing flowers in her hair.

MAMA’S GERMAN GINGERBREAD

(Pfefferkuchenplaetzchen)

Combine dry ingredients:

4 1/3 c. flour
1 small package chocolate pudding
2 tsp. baking powder
2 ¼ c. sugar
1 ½ c. ground hazelnuts
pinch salt

In a pan on low heat, warm the following ingredients, allowing the spices to permeate the honey:

2 c. honey
¼ tsp. ginger
½ tsp. cinnamon
½ tsp. ground cloves
½ tsp. almond extract
¾ c. butter

Let honey cool to lukewarm temperature.

Add 2 eggs to honey mixture (making sure honey is cooled off enough to not curdle eggs).

Add honey mixture to dry ingredients and knead. You may need to add more flour if dough is too sticky, or if too dry, add a little milk for moisture.

Let dough sit for a half hour or so to set.

Roll out dough ¼” thick. Be sure not to roll too thin. Cut out cookies with Xmas cookie cutters — stars and hearts make nice shapes with this dough.

Place on greased baking sheet and bake at 350 degrees for about 13 minutes. You may need to experiment with your oven as far as baking time. Cookies should be soft; if over-baked they will be hard.

Let cookies cool and then glaze.

Glaze:

Combine powdered sugar, almond extract and a little hot water into a paste. The consistency should not be too runny or too stiff, but easy to brush. Once glazed, let cookies sit out overnight to dry before storing.