Growing up in south Texas in the '50s we used to get Christmas presents on three days. First there was the feast of Saint Nicholas on Dec. 6.
Saint Nicholas, a fourth-century bishop who gave gifts to poor people, is the original gift-giver whose name has morphed from the Dutch Sinter Klaas into Santa Claus. Because of him, people in Europe give and receive gifts.
A remnant Spanish custom survived in our small town and the children got gifts on Dec. 6. I remember getting oranges and apples in my stocking, but never the proverbial lump of coal that the bad kids were supposed to get.
For many of the older Mexican people, Dec. 6 embodied the spirit of the season, whereas Christmas was the American celebration. All the Christmas customs, the gift-giving, the decorations, etc. were absent. We didn't have a Christmas tree, for instance, until sometime in the late 1950s. My mother found a dried branch from the huge pecan tree in the yard. She brought it inside the house, painted it white and hung Christmas lights on it.
That was the first Christmas tree I remember. It looked beautiful. Gradually, Christmas presents began to appear under the tree. By the early '60s, most of the old customs had died out and the new Christmas had taken over.
The real celebration of "Christ's Mass" was at church. "Misa de Gallo," midnight Mass on Christmas Eve was the important occasion and even the little kids would attend. The highlight was the procession of the children to the empty manger, to lay down the image of baby Jesus.
After Mass, everyone would go home and eat tamales and drink the powerful cinnamon-laced Mexican chocolate. That stuff could keep you up all night but of course that was not allowed for the children. The men had gone deer hunting and brought back plenty of venison. The women had spent hours in the kitchen marinating the meat and putting it into the corn dough wrapped in corn husks and then steaming the tamales in huge pots. There is nothing more delicious than venison tamales.
At Christmas, women ruled the house. I remember my mother and her "comadres," which literally means "co-mothers," making untold dozens of tamales and enjoying their sisterhood time. I sneaked in just to listen to them talk, but men were not allowed in the kitchen.
The twelve days of Christmas, Dec. 25-Jan. 6, had real meaning in those times.
There was the joy of Christmas, but mixed with sadness, as all earthly experience must be. We remembered the Holy Innocents on Dec. 28, when all the men and boys named Inocente were honored. I often wondered how so many not-so innocent types could have that name. And how could Herod have killed so many babies?
There was New Year's Day, sacred to God the Father, who seldom gets any credit, but because of him sacred to all who bear his name, Manuel. After that there was Epiphany, on Jan. 6, holy to all those named Epifanio. On Epiphany the Magi come bearing rich gifts. It is the Day of the Three Kings, el Dia de los Reyes Magos, the day of the wise men. This is also the name-day of all those named "Reyes."
In the old way of looking at things your name-day is much more significant than your birthday. The saint or sacred feast whose name you bear is your protector, a type of totem beloved in the Indo-Hispano culture.
If there was a true joyous day for all, this was it. Jan. 6 definitely eclipsed Christmas for gift-giving. Baltazar, Melchor, and Gaspar had brought gold, frankincense and myrrh to the Christ child. We emulated them and brought our own gifts to friends and family.
But in a holy time it's the king you must honor and how can you give the king any gifts? He already has everything, owns everything. He doesn't need your poor gift.
The Irish nuns at the parish school told us so. They said that on his birthday it is the king who gives gifts. During this season, we should ask the king for a favor. There is always life, but also death, and the Irish, like the Mexicans, are ever aware of death. The grace we should request, the sisters said, was for the dead-the release of dear loved ones from purgatory.
Release of captives, that was the true spirit of Christmas and Epiphany.
Joe Barrera, Ph.D, is the former director of the ethnic studies program at UCCS, and a combat veteran of the Vietnam War.