Christmas in New Zealand When I Was a Boy - newsletter no. 2 (December 2012)

I was a boy throughout the 1950s (and the first half of the 60s).  In those days it was far more English than it may be nowadays, and this meant that as Christmas came nearer the shops filled with images of white-bearded father Christmases and snowy scenes, complete with Santa’s elves and reindeer pulling sleighs.  Of course this was quite irrelevant to our real world, because December in New Zealand is the onset of Summer and the main thing that we looked forward to at that time was to get to the river or the beach to swim and cool off!  But in those far off days, we were just a little version of England and even thought of the Queen as our “queenie”!  (She was a young slip of a thing back then!)

Picnics by the river, barbecues on the beach, running around the endless sand-hills and sunbathing until you acquired a rich brown tan…. these were the carefree concerns of the summer holidays, which also happened to include Christmas. 

Christmas Eve was the real beginning, when as a child you had great trouble getting to sleep, because you were keenly watching the windows and the door of your bedroom to try and catch Santa creeping in to fill your stocking with goodies!

Somehow you never caught him at it, but always, on awaking to the sun streaming in through the window, the stocking Mum had put on the bottom of the bed was filled with great stuff – which included plenty of things to eat (oranges – which were imported and expensive -, little boxes of very sweet raisins which came from some exotic place called California and small toys).  As we grew older it became a competition between me and my brother to see who would eat all the yummies first, before breakfast!  Always we would race into Mum and dad’s bedroom to share with them the mysteries of what was in the stocking!

Christmas Day ensued, with the highlight being the actual appearance of a HO-HO-HOING Santa himself before lunch, with a bag full of the BIG presents which he put under the Christmas Tree and then distributed to the awaiting grown-ups and kids.  It was funny, and it told a few years for me to notice, but Grandad was never there to get his presents from Santa…

Back in those days there was no idea of turkey for The Christmas Dinner, and we contented ourselves with roasted lamb – the Kiwi staple – accompanied by a rich gravy and plenty of vegies, includingkumara, the local sweet potato. 

There then followed Gran’s plum pudding, which was consumed eagerly with custard and which always had little silver three-penny pieces in it – a tremendous reason for eating until you nearly burst!

Then, of course, you left the adults on the sofa watching the queen’s speech while you went and played with all those new toys – often hand-made by Mum and Dad by the way, there was little plastic back then.

The next day was Boxing Day – still plenty to eat – and away we went to the bach (our beach-side home up the coast) to return to the sand-hills and the surf.

So, in Maori, “Meri Kirihimete” to you all and may your children have as much joy from Christmas as I had!

Kevin Charles Rowe