Our first Christmas as a married couple was spent here on the farm. Just as back in the suburbs of Minnesota, Christmas preparations start early. Senora Berta – once a neighbor and increasingly a surrogate mother to us here on the farm – was frantically baking cookies and breads weeks ahead of time. The hour was surely upon us when we were butchering and salting a choice lamb for a typical holiday barbeque. There isn’t anything quite like fresh, farm-raised lamb roasted for hours on a spit.
On Christmas Eve watched little Thomas open his imported Legos. I couldn’t help but draw comparisons; our customs different in that Chileans for the most part exchange gifts on the eve, but similar in that men feign mild excitement over new underwear while boys beam over their new toys.
We missed all our family and friends greatly and are reminded, both by the weight of their absence and the sincere care of others, what a powerful holiday Christmas can be.
