Christmas was a tremendous community occasion when I was young. We lived at Puru on the Thames Coast and the thing that sticks in my mind is the sense of togetherness that was evident. Puru was one of three small communities of mostly farmers. There were perhaps sixty families altogether, and these three communities would come together for Christmas.
A meeting would be arranged a month or so before Christmas and I can remember my father going off on his horse to attend this. The meeting would decide which would be the host village and who would provide what for the meals. When there was about four weeks to go to the great event, everyone would start preparing. Cakes were baked, sweets were made, and flax baskets were woven to hold the food. In those days it was a luxury to have poultry on the table so chickens were fattened up. From our farm we supplied pigs, turkey, mutton and beef. In the last few days the perishable things were got ready. Everyone had big gardens and Dad always encouraged us youngsters to till the ground. We had marvelous crops and I can remember the vegetables being lifted and the meat being slaughtered.
If Christmas was to be held at Puru, then we would have to prepare for the visitors but if it was at Waiomu or Tapu, then we would go there. On the morning before Christmas Eve we left home. Mum and Dad loaded up the old gig with vegetables and bread while we youngsters went on foot along the beach. When we arrived at the site we would find the tents erected for us to sleep in and washing and cooking facilities all provided in one area.
I am amazed now at the thought and preparation that went into the annual event and the willingness to share and work together. Everyone was united in one thought and that engenders strength in a community. Nearly all of us had cows that had to be milked while we were away but groups of people would form up and go round the sheds to attend to this.
As the people arrived at the campsite, the kids would be let loose to race around and meet their mates while the adults got together too. Because of the spread of the district, some of the people would only see each other at Christmas and there would be a lot of news to catch up on. Sometimes they would talk until two or four o’clock in the morning. While there might have been some difficulty getting the children to sleep the first night in camp, there was no trouble on Christmas Eve. We just dived in because the sooner we went to bed; the sooner we could get up. Christmas day started with the first blast of a whistle that someone found in their presents!
There was no great availability or choice of presents in those days and most of them were hand made. I remember getting out in the morning in a sheepskin cowboy suit and finding that my mates were dressed the same. Our parents must have got their heads together at some time to decide all this. They had been very secretive during Christmas Eve and it’s a wonder where they hid all the presents.
When they were all up, all the people gathered for a community breakfast and then there were the prayer meetings. Everyone intermingled without regard to denomination and all joined in.
Then preparations for Christmas Dinner were started. Puddings were cooked in big coppers and jellies and whipped cream were made. The meat was cooked in a hangi – the pakehas could make hangis as well as the Maoris and many of them could converse in Maori too. The cabbages, carrots, potatoes and taro were got ready and the children were given jobs peeling the vegetables. Long flax mats were laid out on the ground in threes – one for the table in the centre and one on each side to sit on. The children and some mothers had “tables” to themselves and were fed first. Then the grown-ups had their meal in peace. After dinner, most of the adults went for a rest but there was still a group of them to supervise us. Christmas tea was another feed with a sharing of all the cakes and things our mothers had brought. Then there was a last night under canvas before we all packed up and went home on Boxing Day.
Christmas Day was always very special. New Year was held at home and was not nearly so important. For all the fun and gaiety, Christmas still had a very reverent feeling. I don’t know why that has been lost, but the feelings now seem to be just on the surface. It used to be a time for praise and for children to older people. There was plenty to eat and to drink and toasts were drunk in raspberry cordial – I don’t ever remember any alcohol being there. It was a time of singing, praying, rejoicing and of easy relationships. It was a time for exchange of children. We would run up to Mum and ask if Mike or Johnny could come home to our place. These holidays were worked out by mutual agreement among the children and ratified by the parents so that Mum and Dad could have a different mixture of kids in the house for the next week or so. Christmas on the Thames Coast was a marvellous experience. I am only sorry that these things have been lost.