Last week marked the 25th anniversary of the holiday party hosted each year by our next door neighbors, Emily and George. Our hosts have been surprised by how many such parties have occurred. They can hardly believe in the longevity of an event that, when it started, seemed a one-time happening.
They and we were fairly new to the neighborhood then, purchasers of property when real estate prices were as abnormally low as they have been abnormally high in the decades since. We formed a small wave of people attracted by urban living combined with suburban friendliness.
Our street was, and is, a fine place to bring up children, an area where they could walk to their daily destinations without needing to be chauffeured everywhere. For us adults, another strong attraction was having most of our basic services within walking distance or, at least, accessible by public transportation.
Yes, the houses were awfully close together but that could serve as an inducement to good relations with people living cheek by jowl with us. Those of us who lacked yard space – – and horticultural talent – – were happily confronted each summer with the riotously beautiful gardens of near neighbors. And each Halloween, even the smallest tigers and ghosts could easily navigate the short distance from one front door to another.
As time went on, we came to know residents whose families were established here long before us. They helped us to realize what a rich past can be contained in one city block. In turn, we were happy to welcome new neighbors and another generation of children
The annual party has welcomed neighbors old and new, plus alumni of the neighborhood. Those who know the routine expect to sing for their supper, under the skilled leadership of Emily, a professional singer and voice teacher. Gathered around her piano, we sing our favorite carols with a high point reached in the performance of three brave volunteers intoning “We three kings of orient are.”
Then we share in a rambunctious meal to which guests have contributed their most delicious specialties. The abundance and variety of food always brings me back to Christmas as I first experienced it, when my parents would show my siblings and me how splendid a feast day it could be.
Desserts of various kinds complete the party. For me, the hardest choices are forced by the several flavors of ice cream contributed by a maestro of the genre. How can anyone be forced without cruelty to choose between burnt caramel and mint chocolate chip?
Taste treats aside, conversation is another main course available at this gathering. I enjoy the opportunity to talk with friends and neighbors, when we are feeling relaxed and mellow. In the past, politics have occasionally enlivened the discussion, but this year I am resolved not to let my feelings about that man in the White House disturb my peace or anybody else’s.
It is always a special pleasure to see the children who live nearby and to talk with them as they dart in and out of the adult groups. Watching their growth and development provokes continual wonder in me, not unmixed with some wonder on my part if they, in turn, notice me and my age peers growing old.
We used to have a much older generation on our street; now, we suddenly realize that some of us are that generation. Of late, I have come to experience previously unknown disability and can see myself entering into a new stage of maturity. Of course, this is not the whole story of growing older but it does provide an important perspective.
In parts of this neighborhood conversation has already begun about ways of joining together to provide informal services to older people when they may need help. The bonds we already feel among older and younger may provide a foundation for such a plan.
Though it is never fashionable to do so, I also like to remember the beloved dead, people who came to the party year after year and have now passed on into our local history. People like Maud come into my consciousness at this season, a woman whose old age enlivened our neighborhood. Through the paintings that became her trademarks and by the creativity in the way she lived, we appreciated what our own lives in the later years could be.
So hurrah for George and Emily! To them, I lift high my glass and salute their initiative. They have gifted us with a legacy of celebration that has endured for a quarter century, no small achievement.
By sharing festivity with us they have revealed for us the pleasures of living among other people. By wining and dining us all, they have exposed some of the joy inherent in the tradition of Christmas and the other rites that make this season precious.
Richard Griffin