As I sit by my window and the sun tells a story different than the cold outdoors, 

I remember a place where the sun kisses the water, 

The people, and the poinsettia red with warmth. 

I close my eyes and the chilly white flakes melt away, 

Like ice-cream on a warm day. 

I can see plump ladies’ hands rise and fall like their voices, as they white-wash stones and walls 

And men paint the houses and set up Christmas lights in colors borrowed from the rainbow 

I remember that place, cradled by the blue of the Caribbean Sea 

Which sent us a reminder in the swish of the Christmas breeze:

Yes, I remember Christmas in the Caribbean. 

 

As I hurry down the Brooklyn street to get my son’s Christmas toy, 

Floating by are Jingles Bells of Christmas joy. 

Then comes to mind the latest Soca Parang and Reggae Christmas songs which are blowing up the airwaves in the islands

I chuckle as I recall the shelling of pigeon peas and cutting up of sorrel

The vanishing of floors and furniture and the stitching of curtains

All this to welcome the coming of a king, the Christ child

 I laugh at how as a child, I knew Christmas was a coming; the chicken, pig, goats, and cows were now fatter

And bottles of home-made wine were fermenting in a corner

And I knew Momma would be cooking something sumptuous for Christmas.

For Christmas dinner was by far the best meal of the year.

In the Kitchen was where the real magic happened. 

It seemed that Momma and Aunties were fairies who waived their  cooking spoons,  

And food appeared at the sound of their laughter.

That’s Christmas In the Caribbean.

 

On Christmas morn the family would strut down the street in their Sunday best

Graceful and proud as peacocks to sing praises and give thanks.

After church, Aunties and Uncles would talk of times past. 

The dips and highs in their voices seemed to raise the dead in their duppy stories and scare us poor kids.

But by dinner time all fears were gone, 

As the aroma of the Christmas ham, chicken, goat, beef, and fish wafted from the kitchen 

And Mommas called that, ‘Dinner is done!’

On the table was to be found a feast for our eyes and bellies: mountains of fried-rice, pigeon peas, callaloo and potato salad; meat of what seemed like every kind; and jugs of sorrel and ginger beer. 

 

When done feasting, the older folk would laze around to continue their stories which were often interrupted with the entrance of neighbors, friends or family.

Unlike the three wise men, they brought naught but good cheer.

Joy became infectious as the spirit of the Christ child was now in the hearts of the gathered

And there was so much love, happiness and laughter to go around.

But when the heart is full of joy the body seeks music

And soon a bottle and a spoon, a bucket or a drum, a guitar or a cuatro were fetched

And Caribbean rhythms filled the air.

The little children chased each other and played with their new toys

Their bodies full of sugar bouncing like balls off the walls.

And the teens would adorn their fresh, Irish-spring scented bodies in the latest fashion

They would gather in dimly lit corners where whispers would turn into laughter

That cut through the sound of the music as they drank and danced the night away

That’s how Christmas was in the Caribbean that place kissed with the sun’s yellow glow 

 

As I leave the store with my son’ toy under arm 

These memories make me warm 

I still keep a feast and a well decorated lighted house and Christmas tree.

So that his Christmas memories will be as great as mine. 

.

Keep peace, love, and laughter in you’ heart and walk good.

*Note that the opinions expressed here are those of the blogger and not those of management.

To see more about how Caribbean countries celebrate Christmas visit the following links:

https://www.caribbean-beat.com/issue-22/caribbean-christmas#axzz5YTVjQY3C

https://www.villasofdistinction.com/news/articles/merry-caribbean-christmas-4-unique-island-traditions/