The Duvicks by paul

 Christmas in the Duvick household/farm was substantial, deep, authentic, and rich. It always started Christmas Eve with a gathering at my Grandpa and Grandma Duvick’s farmhouse. The meal was massive and delicious and key elements included oyster stew, Kringla, and Grandma’s exception cooking. We would watch Grandpa and Grandma open their gifts from us as well as from other family members and friends. Then they would watch the six of us grandkids open presents they got us—having given money to mom and dad to buys our presents for us. So they were just as surprised at our gifts as we were.  Grandma was the Methodist Church organist and she had an organ at home. So Christmas Eve always included singing Christmas Caroles around her organ. All of these family rituals would be coordinated around the Christmas Eve service(s) of our home Methodist church. Then we would drive home to our farmhouse some 5 miles south of Sandwich Illinois and hang up our stockings on the sofas. We had no fire place. 

Christmas mornings occurred early on Christmas Day.  Usually occurring around 4 to 6 am—sometimes aided by the sound of banging pots by our father.  The rules were 1) we can get into our stockings immediately, and 2) we had to get the coffee on for mom before any unwrapping could occur. Then one of the six kids was elected elf.  

After gifts were opened, mom and the girls would make breakfast, and dad and us boys would do chores, mostly getting the livestock fed and watered. We would have a light special breakfast and then wade into another Christmas dinner feast with Grandpa and Grandma Duvick coming over to eat, nap, and play Scrabble—not necessarily in that order.  

I feel so blessed to have had those consistent experiences and expressions of faith and family growing up.  I would like to add one more specific experience of one year’s Christmas to this annual background described above.  

One Christmas Eve, dad got the three of us boys up early to take on a project out in the barnyard.  He said to collect all the loose boards of wood we could find and to go get some hammer and nails. Dad said we have to stop up all the holes at the bottom of the fence at the lowest point of the barnyard. Why, I did not know.  After we did this Dad said to go get the water hoses from the basement of the house.  We kept them there to keep them from freezing up.  So we connected two hoses together and hooked one end to the water spigot on the house—it was thawed enough to use. He then said to turn on the water and flood the barnyard.  Cocking our heads like a confused dog we finally asked why were doing this. He said shrewdly.  Oh I just thought you guys could take some 2 x 4’s and corn cobs and play some hockey out here.  That was unexpected but fun.  On Christmas morning all three of us boys were greeted with our own hockey stick, pair of hockey skates, and a hockey puck in each of our stockings.  That was my dad for you!

Merry Christmas. May your family be as rich as mine was and is!