IT'S DECEMBER already and I’m asking myself, how the feck did that happen? Where has 2024 gone? And how did Christmas arrive so fast? I feel like it’s snuck up on me and bit me on the arse! And the thing is it’s my favourite time of year, and I am an organised wummin. But what I’ll also say is, as I get older, I’m less focused on the material side of Christmas, so I really don’t sweat the small stuff. Now if I was still out there bulldozing my way down the aisles of Toys R Us to get my hands on the last Barbie dream home or Bumblebee toy or whatever it is the weans are into now, then I’d probably be having a mammy meltdown! But I’m not. Thank God.
I do tend to get sentimental around this time of year though, because I think back to when the kids were small and we were living in Donegal, and all the wonderful rituals we took part in on the lead up to the big day. There was a true sense of the word ‘community,’ when we gathered in our townland and lit the Christmas tree and sung carols. The Gaelscoil in Moville where my kids went had the Nativity play, a labhairt I nGaedhilg (spoken in Gaelic), obviously, which was a wonderful opportunity to hear them tell the story of the birth of Christ and sing Silent Night and Away in a Manger in the language or their forefathers. Then we’d take them to see ‘Santy,’ which is what he’s called in Ireland—which we found hilarious by the way—at the local community hall in Carrowmenagh, where he was welcomed in on a tractor, and every child got to meet him and were given a gift. It was never anything extravagant, but that’s what was so lovely about it. The afternoon was more about the children coming together with all the local kids and their families, singing Christmas songs, getting high on fizzy juice and scoffing more chocolate than Willie Wonka has stored in that great big factory of his. The Saint Vincent de Paul committee members came round the houses selling raffle tickets for their annual draw and the first prize was a lamb. I never had the heart to tell the kids that it wasn’t the real live fluffy variety they could pet, cuddle and feed, but more a leg of lamb that had been frozen since spring time in some farmer’s freezer.
Fascinating facts
And I found out a few wee fascinating Christmas facts whilst living there. The tradition of hanging holly actually came about in Ireland. It dates back to pagan times when the Irish placed it around their homes, doorways and windows as a veil of protection against evil spirits. In fact, it was believed that the evil spirits mischief was suspended for one night on Christmas Eve. As Christianity prevailed it was adopted more as a symbol of Christ’s crown of thorns with the crimson berries being a symbol of his blood, and the evergreen a metaphor for life after death. Holly grows in abundance in Ireland —probably all that feckin rain that allows it to flourish—so it’s no wonder the Irish found good use for it. What a resourceful bunch!
Whilst mistletoe isn’t so prevalent in Ireland, it does exist, and was held in high regard by our Celtic ancestors. It translates as ‘all heal’ as it was believed to heal all manner of diseases and hold other miraculous qualities such as banning evil spirits, bringing good luck and bestowing many blessings. It was said that if two enemies met near mistletoe, they would lay down their arms, have a friendly exchange and call a truce for one day. From this, the custom of hanging mistletoe in a room was believed to be a token of peace and goodwill to all. Now don’t ask me when the kissing came into action because I don’t know. But what I like to think is that somewhere in midst of all this mythical mistletoe malarkey, where everyone was being really nice that somebody somewhere had the good sense to take full advantage of the situation and go that one step further and seal the deal with a big fat kiss. Sure wouldn’t that be a lovely thought altogether?
Another tradition Ireland has is placing a candle in the window on Christmas Eve. Again, this was something I’d never heard of until I lived there, and it’s still practised in Ireland today. This ritual dates back to penal times when it was neither safe, nor allowed, to celebrate or attend Holy Mass, so the candle was an indication to a priest that the home with the burning candle was safe for them to enter and say Mass. It also became a symbol of ‘welcome’ to Mary and Joseph as they travelled seeking shelter. A further element of the tradition is that the candle should be lit by the youngest member of the household and only extinguished by a girl bearing the name ‘Mary,’ if possible. Now back in the day I’m sure there was an abundance of Marys, but not so much today. You don’t hear of too many Marys being Christened nowadays.
Years ago, following the Christmas Eve meal, a loaf of bread with raisins and caraway seeds and a pitcher of milk was placed on the kitchen table and the door was left on the latch so that Mary and Joseph or any other wandering traveller would come in and help themselves. A pitcher of water was left and would be blessed by the traveller—this was then used for cures.
Sinister superstitions
There were plenty of other more sinister superstitions associated with Christmas Eve. When everyone was seated around the fire, if a shadow fell on the wall appeared headless, then that person would be dead within the year. I’d say if you dropped something on the floor, you’d be too scared to bend down and pick it up for fear you made a headless shadow.
It was also believed that if the main candle in the house went out, this also meant a death in the household. For having such a cheery disposition in life, the Irish were absolutely next level mental when it came to superstitions surrounding death. Personally, I think poteen was more readily available than we think.
Moving swiftly on—and I’m gonna try to lift the spirit somewhat here, pardon the pun—it was also commonly held in Ireland that on Christmas Eve the gates of Heaven would open at midnight and all those who died would be allowed straight in, which I’m relieved about, especially with all those candles going out and headless shadows on the walls, because there must’ve been a great big queue out the door! Poor Saint Peter must’ve been working overtime that night.
There are also a few weird and wonderful superstitions associated with food. They say that refusing to eat a mince pie at Christmas dinner would bring you bad luck the next day. You should eat plum pudding to avoid losing a friend before the following Christmas. And drinking three sips of salted water before your dinner brought you good health. After researching all of these fantastical myths and folktales, all I got was indigestion and a strong sense that it was someone with too much drink in their belly and a fertile imagination that came up with all of these. I’m the queen of wind ups and enjoying a tall tale as much as the next person, but my God, you’d need to be soft in the head to believe all that stuff. Still, it makes for interesting reading. Well seeing there were no tellies and little to entertain folk.
So, I hope you’ve all had a chuckle at some of Ireland’s craziest Christmas superstitions and beliefs. I know I did. So all that’s left for me to say now is, Nollaig Shona Duit. God bless and have a wonderful Christmas everyone and I wish you all every blessing in the New Year. xxx
L J Sexton, mum of four, returned to university to pursue her passion for the written word. She achieved her Honours Degree in English Literature and Creative Writing and hasn't stopped writing since. Lyn is born of Irish parents and lived in Donegal for eight years. She is also the press officer for Irish Minstrels CCÉ music group based in St Roch’s Secondary School
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