A Christmas Karyl
Making a Joyful Noise
From Karyl’s Cook & Tell Newsletter (December 1994)
That first Christmas in that obscure place signaled such a big idea that, ever since, men, women and children have been known to spend their lives exploring the idea’s promise and endeavoring to live its meaning.
The world was small, in terms of what was known, on that night when shepherds heard the choir of angels sing of peace and good will. But the joy intrinsic to the big idea and embedded in its revolutionary simplicity shined a light so large as to be indistinguishable, no matter what gloom or grief could be manufactured to oppose it.
Nothing special has to happen to make it Christmas, because, of course, it already happened a long time ago in Bethlehem. But something special often does take place, along with the “keeping” of Christmas, that remains in memory, to be recalled when the settling calm of the season affords a moment’s reflection. Here is the front page of the Boston Herald for Saturday, December 25, 1948, which I found in the old family files. There, right in the middle, under a banner headline proclaiming the “City’s Eve Quietest in Years,” a close-up photograph shows five boys and girls from Needham Junior High, holding song books and singing carols on Louisburg Square on Beacon Hill the night before. The carolers are identified—Billie, Ralph, Nancy, Janet and I—and we are all babushka-ed and ear-muffed against the record 15-degree cold, “coldest to date,” according to the accompanying news article.
What fun to remember that special Eve! We actually started the caroling that night, until the crowd, estimated at a meager 15,000 due to the weather, could be heard all over the Hill’s crooked streets, “carrying on the tradition that has made the Hill famous for its night-before-Christmas celebration.” How could we know, as we nibbled Christmas stollen and warmed our hands around mugs of cocoa back in Billie’s kitchen after caroling, that Christmas Day would find us on page one!
Then there is the Christmas, many years later, when the music of my life seemed silenced and no amount of hot chocolate could bring the needed comfort. Clinging as best I could to a sense of joy whose source I knew was not another person, I eventually began to hear again the harmony that is part of the big idea announced by angels.
And what about the red wool shirt I labored to complete in time to give Bob for Christmas in 1976? I was still working on it late on Christmas Eve and presented it to him, somewhat apologetically, without its buttonholes finished. I ended up owning that shirt, because he married me, and the sleeves were a little too short for him.
*
It was such a simple setting, the place where that big idea appeared so brightly. So undecorated, so tinsel-free, so not dressed up. So quiet, except for the singing of angels that kept the shepherds awake and the light they couldn’t put out.
Amie’s Headnotes
As I retype this essay of my mother’s, as sweet and pure as the first Christmas, I can’t help but tear up. Recapturing that simple joy isn’t always easy during the hustle of the holidays, even when I skip the part about the state of the world. But baking sweets and treats for holiday gift tin deliveries to friends and neighbors—a tradition I began last year during a particularly troublesome time in my life—is a good way to spread joy, and the delight in the recipients’ eyes? That’s the best gift of all.
You’d think needhams, the staple of many a New England Christmas gift tin, originated in Needham, the Massachusetts town where my mom grew up but the chocolate candy was actually created in Maine in the late 19th century by candymaker John Seavey. Named after a popular preacher of the era, George C. Needham, its history is really quite bizarre.
I beg you: do not freak out over the mashed potatoes. Maine once harvested more potatoes than even Idaho, and they remain a major crop in Aroostook County. They remain a major ingredient in the needham, too.
NEEDHAMS
Makes 30-45 pieces
¾ cup hot mashed potatoes
1 stick butter
1 tsp. vanilla extract
¼ tsp. salt
1 (2-pound) bag confectioners’ sugar
2 cups firmly packed shredded coconut
12-ounce bag semi-sweet chocolate chips
Heat all ingredients except chocolate chips in a double boiler, stirring until well blended. When mixture is cool enough to handle, spread out on waxed paper and cut into squares.
Melt chips in double boiler. Dip squares into the chocolate to coat. Place needhams on waxed paper to cool.
Wishing you peace and joy,
Amie & Karyl (who was almost named Joy, and I often think of her as Joy, for that is what she brought to my life and our family)
The Cook & Tell Library | Recipe Index | Owner’s Manual | Notes | the micro mashup | instagram




That illustration by your mom, the note about her name, and that final piece from her essay brought so much love and warmth to me. Thank you for spreading the joy with the tins of cookies and the continuation of Cook & Tell.
"So quiet, except for the singing of angels that kept the shepherds awake and the light they couldn’t put out." ❤️. I teared up too, Amie. What a beautiful post. 🎄