We moved from Long Island, New York, to Tulsa, Oklahoma when I was about 5 years old – a hundred years or so ago. My parents had a house built in what was called, “Johannsen Acres,” a neighborhood of two mile-long streets (24th Street and 25th Place between Sheridan Avenue and Memorial Drive) which each house sitting on an acre and a quarter. A lot of people wanted to live there in order to have a horse. In fact, my husband-to-be lived on 24th Street and DID have a horse named Cinnamon, “the fastest horse in the neighborhood.” :0)
One of my favorite things in the world is Christmas Carols. I arrange to listen to them as much as possible every year. I like the traditional, sung without frills – just voices lifted in beautiful song. They fill my heart with hope for the coming year.
I don’t know who came up with the idea that we should walk around the neighborhood singing Christmas carols on Christmas Eve, but it’s one of my fondest memories of my childhood.
We froze to death while we walked around, stopping at each house and singing a carol or two, and then inviting the people to come join us. By the time we got back to my parents’ home, in a group of 50 or more, we were happy blocks of ice. My mom had hot chocolate ready for the kids and adults who wanted it, plus drinks for those who preferred that, plus some cookies or other desserts. We had a house-full of noisy, happy people each year, catching up on the latest events, many times welcoming new people to the neighborhood.
It was a wonderful tradition. We all looked forward to it every year. I still miss it.