My earliest memories of Christmas remind me just how different life used to be.
... So, Christmas. Eagerly awaited, longed for, full of joy.

It started with the Christmas letters, addressed to our parents: “Dear Mum and Dad, ...”. What they lacked in imagination they made up for in good intentions: I’ll be good, I’ll do as I’m told, I love you, the usual stuff. I’ve still got a few, stashed away with some of my first school reports.

The celebrations officially commenced on the evening of 24 December, with the Christmas Eve dinner, and the nativity scene. Or, as it was traditionally called, the crib. Children and parents alike had worked hard, gathering moss from the countryside and town gardens. The nativity figures were kept from one year to the next, as were the farmers’ cottages, the sheep, the Three Kings, Mary with her blue cloak and Joseph, who for some obscure reason was bald, perhaps to make him look old, immune to the temptations of the flesh. And then there was the baby. Baby Jesus, his tiny body naked or barely veiled out of a sense of propriety.

…Once dinner was over, the children recited poems or read out their Christmas letters. Then off to bed, only to be woken a few minutes before midnight. There was a small procession, led by the youngest child, who carried the baby Jesus and placed him in the manger watched over by the cow and the donkey. This marked the end of the ceremony, and we went back to bed, although it was hard to go back to sleep, not least because we knew that when we woke up, there would be presents waiting for us.

Not that Christmas presents were anything special: a dolly for the girls, for the boys a board game or Meccano, which was all the rage back then, because it developed the manual skills so beloved of schoolteachers.

The grown-ups – parents, other relatives and friends – didn’t exchange presents; it just wasn’t done. The Christmas tree was completely unknown to us, and Father Christmas didn’t even exist – at least in central and southern Italy. Vague rumours reached us from acquaintances in Milan and Turin, but south of Rome no one had heard of Father Christmas.

The Sacred and the Profane
By Eugenio Scalfari

My first memories of the holidays take me back to traditions quite different from those of today.
…Ah, the holidays. Awaited. Yearned for. Joyful.

They’d begin with the letters, addressed to our parents, Dear Mama and Dear Papa, always the same and rather lacking in imagination. Full of good intentions: I will be good, I will be obedient, I love you, etcetera. I still keep a few of them together with report cards from the first and second grades.

The official start of the season arrived the evening of December 24. Christmas Eve dinner. And the manger. Or rather, the Nativity scene. Children and parents alike had worked on it for a long time. They'd gathered moss in the countryside and from gardens in the city. The Nativity figures were kept from one year to the next - the little farmers’ houses, the pastors’ sheep, the Three Wise Men, the Virgin Mary with her sky blue mantle and Joseph, who for some reason was bald, perhaps to make him appear elderly and therefore immune to the temptations of the flesh. And the baby. Baby Jesus, a tiny body, nude or draped just enough to hide his sex.

…After dinner, the children would recite a little poem or read their letters. Then they went off to bed and were awakened a few minutes before midnight. A little procession would form, with the smallest child at the front, carrying the Baby Jesus. He would carefully deposit him in the cradle watched over by the ox and the donkey. The ceremony ended there and we would return to bed, but it wasn’t easy to fall asleep again, especially because we knew that upon awakening we would find the presents.

Yet the Christmas presents were simple. A doll for the girls, for the boys, snakes and ladders or the construction set that was in fashion at the time - it fostered the dexterity that was strongly encouraged by the teachers at school.

The grown-ups, parents and other relatives and friends, didn’t exchange gifts - it wasn’t the custom. The Christmas tree was completely unknown to us and Santa Claus – at least in the central and southern regions – didn’t exist either. A few faint echoes would reach us from acquaintances in Milan and Turin. South of Rome no one had ever heard of Father Christmas.

The Sacred and the Profane by Eugenio Scalfari. Full text

My earliest memories of Christmas are of very different traditions than today.
Ah, the holidays. Expectations. Longing. Merry times.

Letters to our parents marked the start of the festivities. Dear mum, dear dad, always the same, unoriginal lines. They were full of good intentions - I will be good, I will do as I am told, I love you, and so on and so forth. I still have some tucked away with reports from my first and second year of primary school.

The Christmas celebrations would officially begin in the evening on 24th December. Christmas Eve dinner. And the manger, or rather the Nativity scene. Everyone put a lot of work into that, children and adults alike. We would gather moss in the countryside and city gardens. The Nativity figures would be stored away, year after year, as would the miniature farmer’s houses, the shepherds with their sheep, the Three Wise Men, Mary in her blue cloak and Joseph. I never understood why he was bald, perhaps it made him look old and over and above temptations of the flesh. And the infant, Baby Jesus. His body was almost naked, only his masculinity was covered.

After dinner, the children would recite poetry or read their letters. Then off they would go to bed to be woken up again a few minutes before midnight. We would form a small procession, the smallest child leading the way, carrying baby Jesus to his cradle under the watchful eye of the ox and the donkey. The ceremony would end there and everyone would go back to bed, but it was hard to fall back to sleep knowing that the next time we awoke there would be presents waiting for us.

Our Christmas presents were, however, modest. The girls would get a doll, the boys a Game of the Goose board game or a Meccano set, still popular back then, widely encouraged by teachers because it taught little hands manual skills.

The grown-ups, whether parents, friends or family, would not exchange gifts, it was simply not done. We knew nothing about a Christmas tree or Santa Claus. In Central and Southern Italy, at least, he did not exist. We heard vague references about him from people we knew who lived in Milan and Turin. News of Father Christmas did not make it any further south than Rome.

My earliest recollections of holidays are of very different traditions than those we follow today.
...‘The Holidays’: longed for, fantasized over, joyful.

They always began with the same unimaginative little letters to parents; “Dear Mum and Dad…” which were full of good intentions: “I will be good, obedient, I love you”, etc. I still have a few, along with some first and second-grade report cards.

The season opened officially the evening of December 24th with a Christmas Eve dinner and a crib scene. Or rather, a Nativity scene. Parents and children spent a lot of time over it. They gathered moss in the country and in city gardens. Nativity figurines were stored away from one year to the next, as were little peasant huts, shepherds’ sheep, the Three Wise Men, the Virgin Mary in her blue mantle and Saint Joseph who, for some unknown reason, was bald – maybe so he would look old and immune to temptations of the flesh. And the Child, Baby Jesus: a small naked body, perhaps wearing a scrap of cloth for the sake of modesty.

...After dinner children would recite a short poem or read out their little letters. Then they would go to bed, and be awakened at a few minutes to midnight. A little procession would form, led by the youngest child who would carry Baby Jesus and lay him in his crib in the Manger, where he would be watched over by the cow and the donkey. The ceremony was then over and everyone would go back to bed, but it wasn’t easy to get to sleep again because we knew our presents would be awaiting us when we woke.

Christmas presents, however, were modest. A little doll for girls, and a board game or a Meccano, which was popular at the time, for boys; school teachers strongly encouraged the game because it fostered manual dexterity.

Adults – parents, relatives and friends - didn’t exchange gifts; it wasn’t traditional. Christmas trees were unheard of and Father Christmas – at least in central and southern Italy – didn’t exist. A few vague references to them had trickled down to us from acquaintances who lived in Milan and Turin. But from Rome on down,
Father Christmas was unknown.

My first memories of Christmas recall customs very different from those of today. ...Christmas. So looked forward to. So longed for. Such glorious fun.
It began with the little letters, addressed to parents, Dear Mummy and Daddy, always the same with hardly any variation. Packed with good intentions: I’ll be good, I’ll do as you say, I love you, etc. I still have some of them, together with my school reports from my first two years at primary school.
The official start was not until Christmas Eve, in the evening. The special Christmas Eve dinner. And the crib. Or rather, the crib scene. Both the children and their parents would have spent a long time working on it. They would gather lichen from the countryside and from gardens in towns. The characters from the crib were kept from one year to the next, as were the peasants’ tiny houses, the shepherds’ little flock of sheep, the Three Kings, Mary with her blue mantle and Joseph, who was bald for some unknown reason, maybe to make him look like an old man and beyond the temptations of the flesh. And the baby. Baby Jesus, his tiny body unclothed or covered just enough to hide his pubic area.
... Once dinner was over, the children would recite little poems or read out their letter. Then they went to bed and were awoken a few minutes before midnight. They formed a little procession, with the youngest child at the front carrying the Baby Jesus and who then placed him in the cradle, watched by the cow and the donkey. The ceremony ended there and the children went back to bed, but it was not easy to get back to sleep because we knew that when we got up we would find presents waiting.
Christmas presents were still smallish. A doll for girls, and for boys the traditional board game called “Oca” or some Meccano which was then very popular, and helped to develop good manual dexterity which was much encouraged by schoolteachers.
The grown-ups, parents and other relatives and friends did not exchange gifts, it was not the custom. Christmas trees were quite unknown to us and, similarly, there was no Santa Claus either – not in the central and southern regions of Italy, at least. Some vague inklings of all that reached us through acquaintances who lived in Milan or Turin. In Rome and to the south of there, Father Christmas was unheard of.

My earliest memories of the Holidays bring me back to a set of traditions much different than those of today.
…Well the Holidays: awaited, longed for, full of joy.

They would start by the mailing of letters to parents, always the same lame letters, brimming with good intentions: dear mom and dad, I will be good, I will behave, I love you and so on. I still have some of those letters together with my report cards from the first and the second grade.

The eve of December 24, marked the official holiday beginning: Christmas dinner and the nativity scene, namely the Christmas Crib. Children and their parents would work long hours at it, collecting moss rose from the countryside or from public gardens in the city. The characters in the nativity would be preserved year to year, with the peasants’ little houses, the sheeps and the shepherds, the Magi, the Madonna in her blue cloak and a bald Saint Joseph, I know not why he would be bald, maybe so that he would appear like an elderly person free from the temptations of the flesh. Then there was the baby, baby Jesus, a tiny little body either naked or lightly veiled to hide the gender parts.

…After dinner, children would recite a poem or read their letter, then they would go to sleep only to be awakened right before midnight. A small procession would ensue headed by the youngest of the children who would carry baby Jesus and place him into the cradle guarded by a cow and a donkey. That would be the conclusion of the ritual, we would then go back to bed, though falling back asleep would not be easy as we knew that our gifts would be there waiting for us in the morning.

Christmas gifts were nevertheless simple gifts: a doll for girls and Goose Game for boys or Meccano (modern Lego) which was very popular back then and which developed children tactile abilities, much recommended by school teachers.

It was not traditional for grownups, parents, relatives and friends to exchange gifts. Christmas tree and Santa Claus were unknown to us – or at least in the central and southern regions of Italy – they simply did not exist. We would get some vague recollection about it from acquaintances living in Milan and Turin, but in Rome and in the regions below Rome, no news about Santa.

My first memories of Christmas festivities bring me back to habits considerably different from those of today.
Thus the Festivities. Waited for. Desired. Joyful.

They started with the letters to our parents, dear mummy and dear daddy, always the same things with little fantasy. Full of good intentions; I will be good, I will be obedient, I love you, etc. I still keep some together with my reports of first and second elementary classes.

The festivities began officially on the evening of the 24th of December. Christmas Eve dinner. And the Nativity. That is, the representation of the nativity. Children and parents both had worked at length at assembling it. They had gathered the moss in the countryside and in the city gardens. The figurines of the Nativity were kept, year after year, together with the little houses of the peasants, the shepherds and their sheep, the three Magi, the Madonna with her blue mantle and Saint Joseph who was, oddly enough bald perhaps to convey the appearance of an elderly person, above the temptations of the flesh. And the Baby. Baby Jesus, a little body naked or thinly veiled to conceal his genitals.

…After dinner, the children would either recite a little poem or read their letter. Then they would go to bed and be awakened a few minutes before midnight. A little cortege led by the youngest child who carried the Baby Jesus and laid him in the cradle watched over by the cow and the ass. Thus the ceremony ended t and the children were sent back to bed. It was not easy to fall asleep again excited by the thought of the presents that would be there come morning.

However the Christmas gifts were simple . A little doll for the girls and for the boys,a game of snakes and ladders or a meccano ; fashionable in those days, and much encouraged by school teachers because it helped develop manual dexterity.

The grown-ups, parents and other relatives and friends, did not exchange gifts, it was not the custom. Christmas trees were completely unknown to us and Santa Claus did not even exist at least in the centre and south areas of Italy. Acquantainces that lived in Milan and Turin gave us vague hints as to his existence.But from Rome downwards no one knew of Santa Claus