Our State/December 1999 issue/1,973 words

Celebrating The Winter Holidays

We spotlight one town where a mix of cultures underscores the different ways North Carolinians celebrate.

By Ralph Grizzle

If you're at all concerned about the extra pounds Thanksgiving Dinner might have put on, you might want to join a growing legion of North Carolinians who venture to the mountains each year to cut their own Christmas trees. I can attest that trudging up a hillside to find the perfect tree is no easy work. But it is rewarding work, and that's why in recent years North Carolinians having been going west in rising numbers to choose and cut their own Christmas trees.

Though there are no specific numbers available, the "choose and cut" industry is experiencing a growth spurt, says Pat Wilkie, executive director of the Boone-based North Carolina Christmas Tree Association. "We see more and more growers opening up their farms each year to choose and cut," she says. North Carolinians currently have more than 400 farms from which to fell their own trees.

But why would anyone want to go out and work up a sweat when North Carolina Fraser Firs, the most popular Christmas trees in North America, are available on almost every street corner? "It seems that people are going back to the original traditions," Wilkie says. "There's something special about making a three-hour drive to the mountains and cutting your own tree."

Sub: Holiday Traditions

A Christmas tree may or may not be part of your winter holiday tradition. The multibranched candelabrum known as the menorah, for example, is symbolically significant for Jews. During the eight-day festival of Hanukkah in early December, many Jewish people light one candle each day. The tradition is based on an old Talmud story about how a small supply of oil--barely enough for one day--burned in the Second Temple of Jerusalem for eight days.

In Asheville, Harry Goldberg's family will be among those lighting a candle nightly during Hanukkah. For his children, Harry will also retell the story of Judas Maccabeus, who frustrated a Syrian king's attempt to abolish the Jewish faith. "It's the obligation of the parents to pass along as best they can the cultural and religious traditions to the next generation," Harry says.

And because Christmas is not part of his Judaic heritage, there'll be no Christmas tree in Harry's home. "It would be like someone from Finland coming over here on Independence Day, then returning home the next summer, and setting off fireworks on July 4th," Harry says. "Christmas is just not part of our tradition, so why would we have a tree?"

You don't have to look far to see that North Carolina is a mix of many cultures. Accordingly, we celebrate the winter holidays in different ways. Some hold dear the old traditions they remember as children. Others seek new experiences, new ways to celebrate the holidays. I found a little of both of these walking around the town where I live. And I'm sure you'd find a good mix of the old and new in your town, too.

SUB: Handy Man

If you want to know what Christmas was like at the turn of the century, that's easy enough to find in Asheville. Just visit the Biltmore Estate, where you can still see what a Victorian Christmas was like. Here, among the sprawl of poinsettias, you'll learn that Christmas was a grand affair.

You can also take a walk down nostalgia lane with a visit to the Gingerbread Houses at the Grove Park Inn. While you're marveling at the designs, you may hear old-time Christmas carols being sung in the Inn's Great Hall. Stop by, another voice is always welcome.

Don't forget to stop in on Biltmore Village, which celebrates a Dickens Christmas. Some of the costumed carolers look as though they've stepped right out of the pages of "The Christmas Carol." Downtown also offers a traditional holiday experience. Not only is there the annual Christmas parade, but the sidewalks actually bustle with shoppers, just like downtowns did before malls.

But like other North Carolina towns, Asheville also has its share of unique traditions. A friend of mine, George Handy, puts up a Christmas tree, exchanges gifts, spends the day with his loved ones, and even gets a little giddy opening gifts presented to him.

This all strikes me as odd given that George is a Buddhist and has been for 20 years. How does he reconcile celebrating a Christian holiday when his beliefs are immersed a religion that predates the birth of Christ by six centuries? For the answer, we have to go back to where Christmas began, Rome.

It was in the 4th century that Romans celebrated "Natalis Solis Invicti," or "birthday of the unconquered sun." The festival was to commemorate the winter solstice, an event that has been the subject of festivals through history. But early Christians wished to replace the pagan celebration with a Christian one, so they urged Pope Julius I to make Christmas a holiday. He did. Scholars note that an old Roman almanac shows that by the year 336, the church in Rome observed Christmas.

But George celebrates December 25 in the tradition of ancient Romans. The day is symbolically important to him, because it, along with the new year, represents the circularity of life, beginnings and endings and so forth. George's tradition dates back more than 1,600 years. So when people say they want to return to a traditional celebration of the holidays, I now wonder just how far back they mean.

SUB: Gleaning From The Harvest

It was many years after the Romans made December 25 a Christian holiday that the Old Catholic Church separated from the Vatican. The issue was over papal infallibility, and the old Catholics believed only god was infallible.

That was in the 1870s, and today the Old Catholic Church lives on, even if it is small. In the diocese stretching from Washington to North Carolina, there are only nine priests. Asheville is fortunate North Carolina's only representative of the sect. His name is Andrew Gentry, and his congregation numbers only 19.

Father Gentry's congregation celebrates Christmas just as any other Catholic church would. Parishioners observe Advent and Christmas Mass. And like other churches, Gentry's congregation donates to the needy.

One charitable tradition at the Old Catholic Church is based on the Old Testament story of Ruth and the gleaners. The story goes that Ruth had gone out to glean free grain from a field owned by a man named Boaz. Boaz welcomed Ruth, and allowed her to collect grain not only until the end of the barley harvest but also through the wheat harvest.

At the Old Catholic Church, the idea is for the congregation to pick up an extra can of vegetables or beans or soup at the supermarket and bring that item with them to church. These surplus food items are then distributed to the needy through local food banks and other organizations. Father Gentry believes that if larger churches all practiced "gleaning," we could swiftly alleviate hunger for a lot of folks during the winter holidays.

This notion of giving to the less fortunate at Christmas also dates back to Roman times. The festival Saturnalia, on December 17, was a time or merrymaking and exchange of gifts. The Roman New Year, January 1, was a time when houses were decorated with greenery and lights, and gifts were given to the children and poor.

Back when I was growing up in Mebane, I celebrated this Roman tradition without even knowing it. Each Christmas, my dad and I filled several cardboard boxes with apples, oranges, bananas, pecans, peanuts, walnuts and gold wedges of hoop cheese. We loaded the boxes into the back of his blue, Chevy pick-up so we could take them to families of the men who worked with my dad in his logging operation. At times, these workers would drink up their week's pay before providing for their families. I wasn't really old enough to understand this at the time. The fruit, my dad would tell me, was for the kids. "Some of them don't have anything else to eat." It made me feel good to know that I was helping to fill some kid's rumbling tummy.

Despite today's prosperity, nearly 13 percent of North Carolinians are living in poverty. The North Carolina Budget and Tax Center in Raleigh estimates that in Charlotte a single mother with an infant and preschooler must make $27,370 to live without help from aid programs. Do the math, and you'll see that's nearly $13 per hour, many rungs up the ladder from minimum wage.

When I'm in the supermarket this Christmas season, I'll think about the good Father Gentry's prescribed practice.

SUB: Finding Meaning

You can find Father Gentry most mornings at Old Europe Coffee House. Since he doesn't have his own church--a local Presbyterian Church gives him space for services--Father Gentry sets up shop where people are likely to meet him, outside the coffee house when weather permits, inside when it doesn't. If you're in the area, stop and say hello. You'll have no trouble recognizing the collared priest. You'll know you've found him for sure when you see the plaque on his table that reads, "The Padre Is In."

Inside Old Europe, you'll also meet Zoltan and Melinda Vetro, Hungarian immigrants who moved to Asheville four years ago. I asked Zoltan and Melinda how they celebrate Christmas here in North Carolina. Zoltan's eyes lit up as he began to tell me how they still celebrate a traditional Hungarian Christmas in their home. That means the tree doesn't go up until after 5 p.m. on Christmas Eve. And true to Hungarian tradition, the only gifts under the tree are for the children. Zoltan and Melinda exchange only a kiss over a nice dinner together.

Sitting nearby, Sharon Trube says she is glad her husband, a German immigrant, has modified his Christmas traditions, especially with regard to the tree. Over there, they use real candles, something no safety-conscience American would ever dream of.

Sharon and her husband live in Black Mountain, where they operate Berliner Kindl, a German restaurant and deli. The Trube's Christmas tradition is more European than American, Sharon says, because it stresses the spiritual rather than the commercial aspects of the holiday. "We try to focus on dinners and getting together with friends," Sharon says. "We don't like to overdo it with the gifts. It just puts too much stress into the holidays."

Excessive gift-giving seems to have permeated all of the winter holidays. Parents used to give children a simple token for Hanukkah, Harry Goldberg says. "Now we're starting to shower the children with gifts. A child wants something during the year, the parent says, 'Put it on your Hanukkah list.' "

Nearly everyone I talked to expressed concern about the winter holidays loosing meaning and becoming overly commercial. John Hayes worries that Kwanzaa, an African American holiday celebrated each year from December 26 to January 1, is becoming more of a show than "the center of spirituality for the African American family."

Each day of Kwanzaa, Swahili for "First Fruits," is supposed to be dedicated to one of seven principles: unity, self-determination, collective responsibility, cooperative economics, purpose, creativity and faith. "It gives us an occasion to be proud," John says. "It is a time for us to understand and reflect on the spirituality of our people, very much like Hanukkah for the Jewish people."

But Hanukkah, too, is struggling to remain true to its origins. Harry notes that in Israel some Jews now buy Christmas trees for their homes. "They're selling Christmas trees in Israel, and the Israelis are buying them," Harry says. He adds with a shrug, "So I guess the Fins are starting to buy fireworks."