Christmas in Sweden
By Doris Wahlén

(written by my mother sometime in late 1920s or early 1930s)

(NOTE: I found this in a manila envelope filled with other writings by my mom. This story was probably written as a school assignment when she was in what would be a middle school here. I translated it as well as I can, and it still needs a bit of editing, which I will do later.)

November is a very depressing month in southern Sweden. The fog hangs close to the ground in the Scanian (southern Sweden) flat lands; heavy, cold raindrops hang from bushes and trees, and the dampness finds its way into our clothes. One feels raw and wet all the way to the bones.

The beginning of December is like November, but soon enough the whole character of the month changes. The weather is probably similar, but a certain change to a hopeful feeling as the month continues. Christmas is approaching. The countryside gets a whiff of evergreens. Everywhere one goes, spruce garlands are hung around stores and across the streets, and colored lights are wound through the garlands. Store windows advertise Christmas. The next three Sundays in December are "display-Sundays" and this is when we see the most storylike displays in the stores.

There are the toy-stores where the kids rule the day, shoving and pushing their way to the front to catch a glimpse of toy trains rushing around on their tracks in a pretend world with all that a child can dream of.

There are the furniture stores with their decorated rooms, inviting beds and beautifully set tables.

We also see the butcher’s stores, full of all kinds of food: pig’s heads, hams, jellied veal and many other things that make our mouths water in anticipation.
Over all this glow hundreds of lamps wrapped in garlands, so one hardly notices the fog and drizzly rain.

Soon, in hallways and up and down stairs, we smell cabbage cooking. This is the Swedish red cabbage that is prepared in plenty of time, and in large enough quantities in each home that the families can eat it over the holidays. The scent of cabbage blends with the aroma of ginger snaps (pepparkakor), and in the kitchens are found row upon row of gingerbread Christmas goats, gingerbread men and ladies with almond eyes and dressed in powdered sugar. In the basements, housewives change the water on the lutfisk, which must be soaked for at least a week before it can be used.

On the town squares, the sale of Christmas trees is in full swing, and all over the place young boys are dragging trees home to the buyers. Each one gets about 25-50 cents (öre – Swedish penny) for this chore and with hard work they can save up some money to buy presents for their parents and siblings.

In the homes, there are also changes. First comes the thorough housecleaning that drives the men up walls, but when this is done, up come the Christmas decorations: wreaths for the doors, garlands for the ceilings, tiny bright red Yule tulips for the tables. Perhaps a table is covered with a special Christmas tablecloth, and, for the duration of the holidays dishes are kept filled with fruit and candy, dried figs and dates ready for people to be tempted. In some homes the table is decorated only with flowers, evergreen sprigs and candles. In others, there is a tiny statue of a candle-lit church, or a little manger scene with Joseph, Mary and the Christ-child with all kinds of small animal and people figurines around it.

Everyone is so involved with all the holiday preparations that they barely notice how the weather is changing, that the frost is nipping at noses, stars twinkle like crystals at night, and maybe even comets and a few snowflakes wafting around.

Christmas is getting closer. In the evenings secret activities are going on. Presents are sneaked into the house and wrapped, and children are so excited they can barely fall asleep. And finally the long-awaited day is here. It’s Christmas Eve.

Each locality (neighborhood, part of the country) has its own way of celebrating the arrival of Christmas. In my hometown, Kristianstad, the celebration started at noon that day. On the city’s main square, in front of the townhall, stood a tall, often over 60 feet, Christmas tree. On the steps in front of the building the army’s band and choir were ready. Right at noon, they broke out in song and music, Christmas songs and marches and carols, while the city officials slowly paced back and forth on the square. It was mostly fathers and children that we saw, but very few mothers. At one o’clock, the concert ended and everyone headed home to warm their icy toes and hands.

There, the mothers waited in the kitchen with a Christmas lunch. This day, the lunch is eaten in the kitchen, at a long table filled with ham, jellied veal, sausages, red cabbage, steamy hot potatoes, cheese and bread. One eats as much as one can. At the stove, someone dips bread in a pot of bouillon. We call this lunch "dopp I grytan" and this is a very definite part of the Christmas celebration all over Sweden. The meal comes to an end with cookies and jams.
The next few hours the last few Christmas presents are wrapped and short verses to the recipients are written on the packages.

By five o’clock it’s already dark, well, darker than usual because even the store windows are unlit. Maybe because of that, the town tree shines all the brighter with all its little lightbulbs, as people pass by on their way to the Christmas prayer service in the town’s 300-year old church. Inside the church there are more lighted Christmas trees, and aromas of smoked ham and red cabbage waft among the church goers. The service is short: A couple of hymns, a short reading and a few songs from the choir, and then the recessional.

When we leave the church, the whole town looks somehow different. Lights are shining in most of the windows. In my town they usually placed lit candles in the windows after the Christmas service, and there was a certain calm over the promenade home among the quiet streets. No cars. No sounds of traffic. Only the sound of footsteps on the hard and frozen snow.

At home the Christmas dinner was waiting, the Christmas tree was all lit and candles decorated the dinner table. We wish each other a Merry Christmas (God Jul), and the lady of the house rings a small bell at the table and everyone gathers around the lutfisk, rice pudding and klenätter (deep fried cookies).
The lutfisk is a dried fish that has been soaked in washing soda (lye) until it has swelled to at least ten times the original size (of the dried fish used to prepare the dish). Then it is rinsed over and over, over a period of about two weeks, in cold water. Finally, it is wrapped in cheesecloth (so it doesn’t fall apart) and cooked. It reminds me a bit of salted fish as far as taste goes, and it’s eaten with a sharp mustard sauce and butter.

If there are young children in the family, the excitement after the meal becomes unbearable. Will he (Jultomten) come? Have they been obedient and kind during the year? Consciences are searched, and many a small heart is torn between doubt and hope. But, suddenly they see him down the street, in his thick fur coat, long knit cap and big white beard. They hear his steps up the stairs, and then the doorbell rings. Mother goes to open the door, and the children hear the deep voice ask: "Are there any good little children in this house?" Will Mommy answer yes? Little hearts pound hard in their chests. "Yes, indeed!" And deep sighs of relief follow.

The old Father Christmas steps inside with the big sack on his back. It’s been so very heavy to carry so far, he tells the kids. Then he opens the bag, and takes out package after package, reads the verse and hands them to the right persons. Paper rustles, whoops of glee follow and happy laughter fills the house. Before Jultomten leaves to visit the next family, everyone dances around the tree and through the house in a long line.

The evening passes in happy activities, in wonder of one’s own and everyone else’s gifts. Books are leaved through. Girls check to see if their dolls can be undressed and dressed again, and the boys make sure their toy trucks work, and everyone nibbles on cookies and candies. Finally, the children fall asleep in their beds with their favorite toys beside them, and a smile on their faces, maybe even a bit out of breath after the rousing dance around the house.
Christmas morning comes early, with coffee and cookies, followed by a trip to the church for an early morning Christmas service. In the city, the service usually starts at 6 o’clock. In the country, even earlier, like at 4 or 5 o’clock. In the countryside, they often ride to the church in sleighs with bells ringing, and a flaming torch in the driver’s hand. In the cold night air, horses neigh and bells ring.

In front of the church all the torches are thrown into a heap and very soon a large bonfire is roaring. The people stream into the church to the accompaniment of the lovely Swedish hymn "our blessed morningtime" rings clean and clear to the accompaniment of the church organ.

After the service, in many places in the countryside, even now, the farmers arrange a wild race home to their farms. Drivers hoot and whips whistle through the air; women and children hang on as best they can during the wild ride. Whoever gets home first is rewarded with a good harvest. The loser suffers a bad harvest.

Both Christmas days (including Boxing Day, the day after Christmas) are passed quietly. Little or nothing is done, or people exchange brief visits at each other’s home to greet friends and neighbors. New books are read and the children play with their new toys.

Between Christmas and New Years parties are held for the children, and one eats candies til one can no longer even look at another caramel.

By New Year’s Eve the weather has generally become really cold and winterlike, even in the southernmost part of Sweden, and there is usually snow on the ground.

New Year’s Eve meals are generally like those of Christmas Eve, though with much less activity. By 11 o’clock most people are still awake. Some have gone to church, others might have seen a movie, or gone to a restaurant with a New Year’s cabaret, but most are just outside watching fire works that starts at midnight.

And, then the new year is rung in with church bells, rockets and lots of shouts of "Hurrah!"