The Kilkenny Observer Newspaper is delighted to present our ‘2025 Christmas short story series’. We invited five Kilkenny based writers to submit a short story or poems each week, which we hope you will enjoy. This is the Observers fifth year promoting creative writing in the community. For week two we welcome Castlecomer native Niamh Holohan.
By Niamh Holohan
As my memories of Christmas are recalled, the excitement that permeated and brewed leading up to the Festive Season conjures itself. I knew that Yuletide was beckoning to us when my grandmother, mother and I, began making the Plum Pudding in the evenings. We sent one ritually to my uncle, his wife and their large brood of ten in Chicago every year. This edible package was delivered safely to their abode. However one year nobody was home and the postman left it on their porch to the delight of the squirrels who devoured it. At the time, those squirrels drove us all nuts. However, it has become something of a myth that we now laugh upon. Almost apocryphal now.
On those dark, drab evenings we would write Christmas cards to our friends and loved ones. We constantly revised our letters for Santa Claus. Decorating the house was enchanting and I ran amok with my creativity. A giddy and magical spirit manifested in all of us. Shopping for friends and family was always a wonderful experience and the spirit of giving and thinking of others was pertinent. As I got a little older, I became more aware of fashion and liked to be in the mode. I strived to be a fashionista and choosing the perfect attire was essential.
So many things were done in the build up to the festivities. The grocery list expanded and seemed to be unending. I always marveled when decorating the tree with grandad. The house was a sanctuary for Christmas and the golden lights and warm decor brought so much cheer to the dark winter. Assembling the crib was always a privilege and was the most important part of our decoration preparation.
When Christmas Eve arrived, there was an array of every conceivable refreshment laid out for all of the family, my clan really reveled in the elation of the season. The zest of the festivities will always live on in my heart. We listened to Carols and gathered, enjoying one another’s company, laughing with happiness. The gifts began to outgrow the tree and piled up, as more gifts were deposited by each person as it was tradition for everyone to give a gift to each other labeled with one another’s names and someone used to call out the person who the gift was for and who bequeathed the present to who. This left us looking forward to Santa’s arrival.
Watching the early evening news on RTÉ One to catch a glimpse of Santa Claus before he departed was a highlight. I always thought that I would be on the naughty list but baffingly I never was. My grandparents would always put a lit candle in the window. This was a beautiful tradition that they kept alive as a gesture of welcome to a stranger if they needed hospitality or lodging.
When Christmas dawned, it was a morning of sublimity. We would kiss the figure of baby Jesus for his birthday and then unwrap the gifts under the tree that Santa had left. We always went to mass every year. The sacredness and summit of our faith was always adhered to and the importance of mass was emphasized not solely for Christmas but for life.
So much effort was made to create a sumptuous feast. There was every eatery that you could desire. Again, it was a time for family. We broke our crackers and placed our party crowns upon our heads and devoured the indulgent meal. Eating like a Royal court. The evening time was spent playing 25’s, slumbering, doing charades and showing off our North pole deliveries. We certainly feasted, and come evening time there was another bonanza of food to replenish ourselves despite demolishing countless chocolates and treats throughout the day.
The true meaning of Christmas was instilled in me from the very beginning and I have immense gratitude for that. The son of God was born into a stable in Bethlehem in the piercing cold at midnight to the Holy Family. He became incarnate as a defenseless, innocent baby surrounded by shepherds and animals wrapped in clothes by his mother Mary. The angels rejoiced with ethereal hymns. And he was visited by the Magi. Christmas extends an invitation to us to start anew. There was nothing majestic about his birth. The gifts are not as important as we make them. Yet Christmas calls us to bring our own gifts and talents as treasure to others. And to bring the Light of Christ to all that we can. Christmas in itself is a gift and a promise to all to shed its luminosity and the life that it brings. The angelic light of a child and the love of God is what it is about.
Castlecomer native Niamh Holohan has a background in journalism and humanities and was published in anthologies with the Loughboy writers group, Lake Productions, Ireland’s Own, The Annual Castlecomer Christmas magazine – the Deenside and collaborations through the Involvement Centre and the Recovery College.
