Fred's Childhood Christmas Memories

A Reflection by Fred Schaeffer, OFS

You already know the story that I was born in WWII in Holland. What you do not know, perhaps, that despite the shelling and the suffering, people still celebrated Christmas in their homes, or perhaps where they were staying away from home when it became too dangerous. They were unable to go to Church, that was clearly too dangerous as tanks and machine guns were doing their deadly thing on the streets of Nijmegen and other towns.

I promise, this will not be a story about war; instead, it is a story about courage. People beleaguered by an insane war still managed to remember the Birth of the Lord under dire circumstances. I must add that I was only 5 years old when the war ended, but most of this info came from stories of my parents and relatives in the 10 years that followed. By that time, I was old enough to understand and remember. My parents died in the New York area, Dad in 1963 and Mom in 1983, I think of them a lot.

The house we lived in, in Nijmegen, is still standing (2021). I pull up a picture in “Google Earth” ^® periodically, to refresh my memory. It is a four-story house built on a corner of two streets, in the center of town. The bottom floor above the cellar, was a store; the next landing led to the living floor, followed by sort of a split level where a W.C. (toilet) is found and a balcony, and the upper part of the split level is a rear workroom where Dad had two ateliers where he and his tailors worked (he made suits and shirts). Atop all that there was an attic with one or two other rooms including the family bath. The house was complicated, but it was also a fun place (if only there wasn’t a war).

Since the war ended in May 1945, I am sure we ventured out at Christmas of 1945 and in 1946, the year my schooling continued full-time. Not sure about 1944 and before, as there was still too much shooting going on. If you’ve ever seen the 1977 movie, "A Bridge too Far" about Operation Market Garden, September 1944, you’ve got the whole story what happened in Nijmegen. The American units of the 82^nd Airborne Div., and other Army and Marine and British companies drove up the road from Eindhoven to Arnhem (Nijmegen is about 17 km south of Arnhem), you get the picture what was going on in 1944 and 1945. Many courageous military soldiers lost their lives to save Holland, and us. We were grateful.

Getting back to Christmas, my dad was handy in hiding presents all over the house where in the evening and night it was as still as a mouse. He hid them on various floors in nooks and crannies, then left clues in Christmas cards and in poems, and suspended from strings down the upper landing, and it was great fun seeing people run all over the house to find their presents. I participated in that hilarity though I am not sure at my tender age I understood what it was all about. Usually, we had around 15-18 guests. Sometimes more. After we had our presents the folks calmed down, sat down in the large living room; two rooms connected with an archway, which was handy. The kids were at little tables and chairs in the corner room, and the adults in the living room, each group in sight of the other.

Then we had some sweets, refreshments and sang carols. The men and Mother had Jenever or other liquor; Dad had some (78rpm) phonograph records with lovely Christmas carols and hymns which I miss to this day. Some French carols that were out of this world. Dad, who tinkered with electronics, had put together a phonograph and amplifier out of spare parts. I recall the phonograph had needles which were real thorns from Israel or Egypt, and the music was beautiful played that way. Dad was very musical anyway, he played piano and organ, and he had friends who came to the house once a month to play violin, viola, etc. It was a regular Quartet or Quintet. Mother and I loved it. I still love classical music, and particularly chorale and organ.

You can imagine, the Christmas celebrations at the Schaeffer house were something to look forward to. Good presents, good food, great music, great religion, the Birth of the Lord, and great family and friends. My cup runneth over as I recall these childhood memories.

Then in 1952, we moved to The Hague (on the North Sea - side of Holland), where our living quarters were more modest, and two years later we moved to the U.S. of A. It was a home run all the way.

May the Lord bless you and keep you, have a Blessed Christmas and a healthy and Happy 2022.

Fred Schaeffer, OFS
12/18/2021

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