When I was growing up in Scotland, I was excited about Christmas. My mother would have our mantelpiece decorated with holly and mistletoe and I would hang up my stocking (usually my dad's as they were bigger!) and I would take off to bed at an early hour, waiting for the magic of christmas morning.

As all young children do, I woke up at an early hour, worried about going into our living room, in case Santa Claus was still there, or even worse, he had not come yet! I would lie in my bed, counting the minutes until I thought it was safe to get up.

After the festivities of opening gifts and then eating large quantities of food, Christmas day would draw to a close. Now the real holiday spirit would take place, at New Year's Eve.

The planning for this special event would just about take all of the preceding week to complete. Mother would be busy baking all week, so many scrumptious cakes and delicacies, that we were not allowed to touch, under peril of our lives! The main meat dishes at New Years Eve, were a large leg of Pork, a Turkey, and a Virginia Ham. They were usually cooked the day before, so that they could be sliced cold, as in a buffet. They would be accompanied by home made Apple sauce, Cranberry relish and other pickles.

Our vegetables would be mashed potatoes, roasted potatoes, turnip, greens, parsnips and carrots. We did not have broccoli or corn, at that time in Scotland, as a vegetable. There would be fruit cakes, especially Dundee cake, Cherry cake, Sultana cake, and of course, Black Bun! Now Black Bun is very spicy, it is a fruit filling encased in pastry, and has to be made days in advance to let the liquor seep though into the filling. It was a traditional cake to give those people that entered your home after the stroke of midnight.

At about 7pm on New Years eve, my mother would set up our dining room table full of all these wondrous dishes, and mixed aroma would fill the room. My father would then get out the bottles of alcohol and mixes, that would then be displayed on our coffee table, along with all of the appropriate stemware. We would all get dressed in our "best" clothes and wait for the clock to chime midnight. My father would step outside our front door, just before the chimes would sound from our local church, and he would wait there until the chimes had ceased. He would be carrying a lump of coal and a bottle of whisky, as this was our tradition. A dark haired man(which he was) was to be the first person through the door after midnight, and he must carry coal to give to the occupants. If a fair haired person was the first to knock your door, then they would not be allowed in until a dark haired person came. Too bad if it was really cold or snowing, but tradition must be upheld!

After his entry into the house, we would all wish each other a Happy New Year, and then wait for our visitors to come. They would start to arrive shortly after, family and friends, bringing some sort of gift with them, and often would have gifts for the children, who were allowed to stay up on that special night. My father would often go out into the street and meet neighbours and invite them into our home, the streets were very busy, full of people walking to house parties and singing and laughing as they went. It was a time of joy and friendship and created a feeling of belonging.

I would try to keep my eyes open to enjoy all the food and laughter, but I would not be able to stay awake very long, and my father would lift me up and take me to my bed. I would sleep through all the noise and bustle, as young children do.

The next day, being New Year's Day, we would put on our winter coats and go visiting those relatives who had not managed to come the previous night. We did not have a car in those days, so we went by public transport, which was usually a tramcar that ran on tracks, not very smoothly, so we all felt a little shaky when we would get off. What fun we had, sharing our food and tall tales, with our housebound relations.

On New Years Night, we would go to church, to give thanks for our blessings and to pray that the next year would bring us health and happiness.

I do not know if these traditions are still held in my home country, I rather think not, as time changes many things that were held dear to us, new ideas take their place and the sense of family is perhaps, not as strong, many family members now, living away from home.

I will never forget those days as they were among the happiest I have ever known, being so at one with my parents, seeing my loved ones happy and carefree, if only for that one magical night,

HOGMANAY!

Ena Clewes
Journalist, Short Story Writer, and a PROD SCOT!
Visit http://www.pets-1.com