december 21, 2012

COME IN & SEE TIM! www.kelownaautoglass.com

250-869-07002492 ENTERPRISE WAY, KELOWNA

(Across from Shaw Cable)

Kelowna’s #1 Choice for Auto Glass

formerly NOVUS GLASS

Tim and the staff would like to wish everyone

a very Merry Christmas and a Happy and

Prosperous New Year!

Through the month of December, we asked readers to share their stories about the most memorable Christmas gift they ever received. Inside are some of the many wonderful submissions.

Holiday Greetings

Capital News Friday, December 21, 2012 www.kelownacapnews.com V3V2 www.kelownacapnews.com Friday, December 21, 2012 Capital News

Sunday, December 2nd, URBA (Uptown Rutland Business Association) hosted the 6th Annual Uptown Rutland Christmas Light-Up.

Thank you to all the people who joined us to share a cup of hot chocolate, watch the lights come on, and visit with Santa. We really appreciated your company!

URBA thanks the businesses & associations that contributed to the 2012 Uptown Rutland Christmas Light-Up.

My Neighbourhood Restaurant, Specialty Bakery, Braeden Hikichi, Jagger Bowles, PJ Lawler and Kelowna Chiefs, School District 23 and Rutland Senior Secondary, Ian Zylicz and the City of Kelowna,

Dollar Store with More at Willow Park, Bob Verge, Aaron Meier and Valleyview Funeral Home, Rutland Marketplace IGA, Kirschner Mountain.

Thank-you to all the hard-working volunteers: Paul and Susan Rayner, Leora Rupert, Ryan Wickert, Andrew Fredrick, Brittney Seymour,

Kaylee Turvey, Residents of New Gate Apartments.

Season’s Greetings

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Christmas on the prairie was always a white Christmas. We loved to be out in the snow.

We would shake snow off the trees and feel it icy down the back of our necks, make snow angels in a fresh snow-fall, and dig tunnels in the snow or build a snow fort when it was drifted high.

When conditions were right, we made snowmen with real lumps of coal for eyes and mouth for our house was heat-ed with a monster coal-eating

furnace in the basement.My, brother, sister and I

moved to Saskatoon in 1942 with our mother. Our fath-er had been killed on the sink-ing of the Caribou in Cabot Strait while he was working for DND. I had just turned four. We went to live with our pater-nal grandparents in their tiny house.

We basically lived in the kitchen as the living room was reserved for special occasions. A wood stove, sink, a few cup-

boards and big wooden table were our surroundings. There was a cot at one end on which our brother slept for there were only two small bedrooms.

My sister and I shared a bed with Mom. Grandma and Grandpa had the second bed-room.

When Christmas came we spent more time in the liv-ing room. It was decorated with garlands hung from the ceiling and the tree, of course. Our mom worked downtown

and most often walked to and from work although there was a streetcar just a block away. I expect she walked to save the dime.

Mom would buy our Christmas tree from a tree lot downtown and drag it home in the bitter cold! We always an-ticipated how perfect it might be when we brought it in and thawed it out ready to decorate.

Mom always made our gifts special and we were al-ways surprised. It was when I was about six or seven years old that I received my most memorable present. It was a pink angora bonnet and mit-tens knitted by Mom.

They were so soft and warm and in my favourite col-our, perfect for the cold Sas-katchewan winter. It was also very fashionable as were thick angora sweaters at the time.

Now why has this be-come my most memorable gift? The bonnets and mit-tens for my sister and me were a total surprise. We had never seen a snitch of that yarn be-fore Christmas. Mom had sat up many nights after we were in bed to make them a surprise for us on Christmas morning. What love and devotion she had for us.What could be a bet-ter present!

Hopefully I let my mom

know how much that meant to me at the time. Over the years you think of all the memories you would like to have shared with your mom about just such things. Sometimes we are not

so lucky. Mom died when I was just 21 and I have forever missed her. What a wonderful mom she was.

~ Shirley Anne Hathway

MOST MEMORABLE GIFTS • CHRISTMAS 2012

Capital News publisher Karen Hill congratulates Shirley Anne Hathway, of West Kelowna, on the winning submission for the newspaper’s Best Christmas Gift Memory. Hathway won a $100 gift certi� cate to Walmart for her entry, which she has donated to the food bank.

THIS IS THE WINNER!!!


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Now that Christmas is just around the corner, I’ve been thinking about my favourite Christmas.

My favourite Christmas was when I was 6 or 7 years old. I lived in the small northern coastal Canadian com-munity of Kitimat. In those years it wasn’t unusual to get 25 feet of snow in the winter. I recall neighbours shov-elling off the roofs of their mobiles up onto snow banks that surrounded every home.

At the time, my father Bill worked in an aluminum smelter and my mom Sherron was a stay at home. We lived modestly in a mobile home in a trailer park but my dad owned it and looking back that was pretty good for a young man supporting two kids and a wife.

Times were dif� cult. I remember my dad cutting off the tops of Heinek-en beer bottles and gluing the bot-tom to the top and selling them as beer glasses to make a little extra cash for the family. Dad paid me to sand the sharp edges along the cuts. I would have done it for free as I just enjoyed spending time with him. I think every boy idolizes his dad at that age.

We had a magni� cent golden lab named Marty who would pull me on a toboggan around the park by a rope tied around his neck. He never seemed to tire dragging me along until it was time to go in.

We had a Siamese cat who’s name was Ming or Ching or something. This cat was my mom’s. This cat had some odd traits, the most peculiar thing about this cat was it would use the toi-let in the same manner as we all did. Certainly cut down on kitty litter ex-pense but we could never train it to � ush.

My sister Laureen had just turned old enough to babysit. Living in a trail-er court there was no shortage of par-ents looking to hire her. At this age she was very precocious and vocifer-

ous and everybody loved this little red-head, nobody more than me!

At this age we battled continuous-ly. I just wanted her attention like any little brother would, and of course she couldn’t stand having her little brother tagging along.

My whole life I stood in the shad-ows of this gregarious extravert. I re-member her getting me all excit-ed about Santa Claus the night be-fore Christmas and convincing me that there were bells jingling on the roof. I’m sure I saw the holy star shinning brightly in the sky that night from my window.

The next morning I awoke, early I may add, to a mountain of gifts under the tree. But we had rules. We had to have breakfast before presents. I re-member pancakes, bacon and eggs. Mom liked to cook the works Christ-mas mornings. After an agonizing wait till everyone was done we got to tear into the presents and they were all for me? Piles of the them, hockey sticks, toys, balls, puzzles all for me.

Never had I seen so many presents under a tree and they were all for me. All for me from Laureen my sister that wanted nothing to do with me, saved every penny of her babysitting money so she could buy me Christmas pre-sents.

I can still see her beaming blue eyes as I unwrapped those presents. I have to say no single deed ever changed my understanding of the dy-namics of my relationship and love for her than this thoughtful gesture.

I knew even though she griped and moaned and even made me walk be-hind her when she had to have me tag along, she loved me. (Laureen Patricia Rice,1960-94)

I hope you make the most wonder-ful memories for your family!

~ Bill Rice

so lucky. Mom died when I was just 21 and I have forever missed her. What a wonderful mom she was.

~ Shirley Anne Hathway



As a young child of 7, I rolled out of bed on December 25, 1991, 6 a.m., and quietly went down the � ight of stairs to the living room tak-ing each of the nine stairs gently as not to dis-turb the sleeping family members.

Upstairs slept my parents, my two-year-old brother and an infant celebrating his � rst Christmas, having been home just eight days. I have no desire to wake any of them.

Turning on the tree, I examine the gifts now basking in the glow of its multi-colored lights as I sat and waited for the others to get up. In the back corner siat a curiously large box with a smaller box taped on top of it.

The tag read it was for me and if I recall correctly my two-year-old brother, which made me curious as I knew of nothing that would be an acceptable gift that would appeal to both of us.

However, the tag said it came from Santa Claus so my seven-year-old self assumed that the man in red must know what he’s doing. Little did I know that the contents of that box would play a formative roll in my childhood and set me more � rmly onto the path I chose in adulthood.

A couple of hours later when everyone is awake the � rst task is opening the stockings, pulling out the usual goodies, an orange, a toothbrush, some chocolate, underwear, etc. Then into the gifts.

Tearing open each with that zeal that only comes in childhood, I came to the box and opening the smaller gift taped to its top found a purple box with vari-ous shapes of blocks falling and locking together with � ve large letters atop it TETRIS. and the tag line “From Russia with Fun” on the bottom of the box.

This could only mean one thing, There was a Nintendo En-tertainment System in the larger box. Tearing open the wrapping paper revealed the action set, the later model with the black star

� eld graphics and so much stuff inside that I weep for my future children who’s videogame consoles may come with just one control-ler and two wires to connect the system to the television.

Nintendo had thought of everything back then. The box had two games inside on one cartridge, two controllers, a orange coloured “light gun” known as the zapper and every kind of cable/adaptor that a TV of the era could possibly need, 75 to 300 ohm convert-er for those using over the air antenna feeds, 300 to 75 ohm converter for those who’s tele-vision lacked a coaxial input, an RF switch for use in conjunction with those converters or on its own, and yes even the super new compos-ite RCA cable connectors for those with fancy televisions or those who had a VCR connected to their television.

Little did know or care about in the mo-ment, but the best gift of my childhood was made possible by a comment my mother re-ceived from a doctor regarding my hand/eye coordination.

I still have that NES, as do I now � ve others, six if you count the top loading re-re-lease of the mid-1990s I bought a couple years back.

My collection of games has much in-creased as well but even now at 28 I will never forget the feeling of tearing the wrapping paper off of a childhood friend like this, my toaster, my NES.

~ Liam Turner

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The knock on the door was barely discern-able, a dog maybe? A dog had come to the front door the past winter during a heavy snow storm and the mother opened the door and the large dog came in, shivering and shaking, sending the cat the boy was holding, out of his arms and over his head, leaving great scratch marks on his scalp.

The dog spent the night in the house, ate the few scraps it was given and seemed happy enough the next morning to be on his way, through the deep, fresh snow that now blan-keted the city, with the bright prairie sunshine showing the sun diamonds that now danced and sparkled on the new white cover ..

But this time when the mother answered the knock at the door there was no dog, no cat, no person, but on the step was a small card-board box which she carefully picked up and put on the kitchen counter. What could be in the box, and who had put it on the step?

It was only two days before Christmas so the two children thought it had fallen from Santa’s sleigh, or maybe he had come ear-ly and left it there, but the mother did not think so, because what was in the box was food they could eat—a tin of salmon, some butter, on-ions, potatoes and bread, a tin or two of soup and some oatmeal which the little girl hated.

The children did not understand they were very poor, while the mother was grate-ful but embarrassed as well. She did

heat up a tin of the soup and mulled over in her mind who had left the box; probably a church group, she thought.

The school had given the children toothbrushes earlier and she had used a hot needle to burn their names into the bone handles. Many chil-

dren had received toothbrushes, poor families were legion now, but there is no real comfort in all being in that same boat!

But there was more in the box that the mother did not mention, she now knew Christ-mas was not going to be quite as bare, for there was a bit of hard candy, a small chicken, a col-ouring book and crayons and two toys she knew would make the children very happy.

Christmas morning is always an excit-ing time for children, rich or poor, and the two in this family could hardly wait to get to their stockings. The boy was overjoyed to � nd some tinker toys and his very fa-vourite toy, an airplane, and much sky was � own before breakfast was eaten.

And the girl? She had a celluloid doll, maybe seven inches long, with shiny gold-en hair, arms that moved, and she wore under-wear and a little cotton dress, but the hair was the crowning glory, it was so long it hung down past the doll’s knees, and it was silky soft; no child with an Eaton Beauty doll or a Hairbow Peggy could have been happier.

I should know, for I was that little girl, and though eventually I had both of those other dolls, I will never forget my golden hair one. She made my Christmas that year, and became my friend; wrapped in a face cloth she slept many a night on my pillow.

The donor never knew the happiness she brought me, for we never learned who had left the box, but I am grateful for the treasured memory of that Christmas gift some 81 years ago.

~ Sylvia McTavish

This year I will receive one of the best gifts as my family will be together since my father passed away � ve years ago.

While he was alive, most of our Christ-mases were spent together with many family traditions. The tradition we hold closest to our hearts is playing hockey as a family on Box-ing Day.

My Dad would rent ice somewhere in the Okanagan and our family would play hockey against a team made up of friends. Our family even has of� cial family team jerseys.

This year, we will once again be able to put on those jerseys and play in his memory. He played hockey until he was 80 years old and know he will be cheering from above. Our team will be players ranging in age from 3 to 60-plus.

~ Linda Thompson



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December 25 &

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KELOWNA’S HEALTH & LIFESTYLE DESTINATION

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The Businesses & Services of Capri Centre wish you all the best of the holiday season & invite you to stop in…

Christmas morning was the most antici-pated event of the year. One that had a history in the same 1950s bungalow and same two parents and two girls’ lives. There were writ-ten and unwritten laws of what to do on that morning and in the days in December leading up to Christmas.

On Dec. 25, we girls would wait until � rst light, which in Edmonton winters was a pain-fully late 7:30 a.m. One of us would tiptoe into the other girl’s room to check if she was lying in bed with her eyes wide open and she most certainly was.

As the oldest girl, I would then creep down the hall just to the end and peer around the corner to the living room Christmas tree to see if Santa had come. The real tree, usual-ly a Scotch Pine from the bush where Dad had cut it down in a remote ditch, sparkled with beautiful ornaments that had been saved lovingly, year after year, from our parents’ � rst Christmases.

Some fragile ones there were less of, but they were all treasured. So, Santa had come. He never wrapped his presents. There were also presents wrapped from Mom and Dad and a few more that had been sent from Cal-ifornia, North Dakota and Dawson Creek—brown wrappings that had been hidden and taken out for the big event.

I dashed back to my sister’s room to sav-our the � rst glimpse. We had to wait until Mom and Dad were up and the joyful antici-pation was a special memory that even our young years valued.

This year was the one I would never forget because of the special present from Santa that was demonstrated by my Dad, “The Ham”. Dad was always the � rst one out of bed and was like Santa himself. He was all twinkling eyes and a hearty laugh with a warmth that surrounded him and spread throughout the cozy living room like the smoke that encircled Santa’s head like a wreath. He was larger than life, my Dad, and this was his day to shine.

So all four of us, and the dog, were assem-

bled on the green carpet in front of the tree with its twinkling lights. We were taking turns opening presents and slowly waking up to be-ing as gregarious and boisterous as our Dad.

But Dad was right into it and was inter-viewing the rest of us like a TV reporter, “Merry Christmas, ho, ho, ho…and what did Santa bring you? What a lucky girl you are.” This ruse and disconnect by the rest of his family continued for quite awhile until, all of a sudden, a light bulb went on in my brain and I realized the present Santa had given had come to life in my father.

The present that transformed Dad into a broadcaster, was a yellow, plastic, Toshiba cassette player, shiny and new and recording Dad’s Christmas morning antics and our not so enthusiastic sounds of joy.

That all changed once the knowledge spread that we were “live.” We still have that old cassette tape with our Dad’s jolly voice and that was my best Christmas present ever.

~ Carrie Skinner

We were poor. In fact we were considered the poor people in our poor neighborhood. We always had enough to eat and our clothes, though hand-me-downs were in good repair and Mom kept them clean.

We didn’t realize we were poor because we had grandparents and other relatives to help. At Christmas, Santa always brought us something and there were gifts from those relatives.

We wrote the usual letter to Santa and quite often got what we asked for. One year my sister wrote in her letter that all she wanted was a toboggan. I can’t even remember what I asked for because I just wanted my sister to get her toboggan. I knew I would share it with her and how much fun that would be.

Christmas morning started at about 5 or 6 a.m. The excitement was electric in our house with four children. We were allowed to open a couple of gifts then Dad ordered that “breakfast now then the rest of the gifts.” I’m sure we ate faster than at any other time of the year just so we could open the rest of the gifts. You could sense the disappointment when we could not see

the toboggan anywhere. It would have been too big to wrap and it could not even be hidden by the other gifts.

As we opened the rest of the gifts, clothing mostly, the tears were welling up in my little sister’s eyes and I felt so badly for her. She bravely opened her gifts and set them beside her. Then my father said, “Okay, let’s clean up this mess.” We picked up paper and ribbons and put them into the garbage.

Dad said to my sister, “Pick up that string, the one under the tree.” As she tugged at it, it became a rope and she had trouble pulling it. I was told to help her and we tugged together. Out came the most beautiful toboggan we had ever seen! It had been hidden by the drapes behind the tree. Tears � owed, even Mom was wiping her eyes at my sister’s happiness. The rest of the winter we spent every spare moment at the hill about a block away from our home making use of that prized possession.

~ Glenda Townsend



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I kept an eye on my Baba (Grandma), and ran over to the wood stove each time she opened the oven door.

Two blue roasters were side by side; one filled with cabbage rolls bubbling in tomato sauce, the other a nicely browning goose. I breathed in the mingled aromas and looked excitedly around our kitchen where busy hands chopped, peeled and mixed other Christmas dinner fare.

From my earliest memories, my main focus was on the holubtsi (cabbage rolls). Along with laying

our Baby Jesus doll on a bed of straw under the tree, shaking my present wrapped in tissue

paper, pats and kisses from aunts and un-cles, and giggling with cousins, the cab-bage rolls were the best part of Christ-

mas. Each year, my Mom insisted I put a variety of food on my plate, but then with all

the festive chatter, she never noticed I only ate the cabbage rolls. With each mouthful I closed my

eyes while the slight tang of soured leaves and savoury sticky rice saturated my taste buds. I always wished my stomach was bigger.

I remember well the day I rolled my first cabbage roll, and Baba raving about how I was a ‘natural.’ I became privy to her recipe of perfectly combined ingredients. As we worked, Baba

said, “It’s because they are shaped like a holub or ‘dove’ that they were named holubtsi.”

Although some of the holiday traditions changed when I mar-ried a Norwegian fellow (and later an English bloke) to accommo-date their cultures, the Christmas cabbage rolls remained. Later in life, my three sons, and eventually my grandchildren, were in-troduced to these succulent little delicacies.

Just when I thought the significance of the cabbage roll could hold no fuller meaning for me, an unexpected encounter proved me wrong. In my mid-50s, I decided to learn my heritage lan-guage. Being born just after WWII, assimilation into Canadian culture was considered paramount. With the exception of a few Ukrainian words only English was spoken in our home.

After a series of courses I developed an excellent vocabulary, but conversation left me tongue-tied. Noticing a Ukrainian Hall in Richmond, I entered the back door to a kitchen. I asked Penny, the manager, if she knew anyone who might be interested in giv-ing me private lessons. She suggested I join their Thursday cab-bage roll production group where the ladies volunteering their tal-ent, chatted mostly in Ukrainian. Why not?

I became a regular ‘roller.’ As the months went by I listened to their jovial banter and was encouraged to join in. The nuances of verb tenses and noun genders fell into place like the rows and lay-ers of cabbage rolls we produced.

Our nimble fingers worked skilfully under Penny’s direc-tion. Nadia kept us howling with her comical remarks. Pauline and Mila were quick with retorts. Sophia exuded an aura warmer than a summer day. Slava’s incredible voice wreathed us with folk songs. As the others joined in with teary eyes, I didn’t need to un-derstand the words to know that each was lost in memories of the old country.

We turned out product for weddings, a monthly hall supper, and for customers to purchase by the dozen. The proceeds were used for sponsored cultural events at the hall.

Two years have passed since I’ve left Richmond, Penny has re-tired as manager, but still volunteers each Thursday.

Slava has since gone to sing with the angels. Each Christmas, after Baby Jesus with his faded and chipped china face is placed under the tree and the sizeable plate of cabbage rolls is passed around our family table, my heart swells thinking of these spe-cial ladies. It was the grandest immersion course imaginable. My late Baba would have been impressed with our speed and knack to form perfect little doves, and the ladies had given me the greatest gift of all....their friendship.

~ Irene Butler

I was born in the early 1930s, my parents having just recently immigrated to Canada. They came with nothing, and those early years were extremely hard.

One Christmas, I must have been about 7, I received a beautiful doll with hair and eyes that opened and closed. It was my first, and only “store-bought” doll.

How I treasured that doll. But it was the gift that appeared under the Christmas tree the next Christmas that really stands out in my mind to this day.

There In a small case, about 12x9 in size, was a beautiful set of clothes for that doll, hand crafted by my mother from scraps of material left over from other sewing!

There was a coat and bonnet, all lined, a slip and panties, a dress, and socks and shoes and a nightie. What a treasure!

Now in my 80s, I still have the doll. Unfortunately, I don’t know what happened to the clothes, but the memory remains.

~ Anne Foster

My story is about my daughter. One year I gave her a chia pet think-ing she would like it.

Many years later when she was an adult, she was working in a mall and a news crew interviewed her about her worst Christmas present she ever received.

She said it was the chia pet. So now every year, I get her a chia pet.

~ Jody Kopf



BINDERY DEPARTMENT

We send our warmest

holiday wishes.

FLYER DELIVERY2012

Although this is a rather sad story, yet comical at times, its ending illustrates a valuable lesson about giving.

As an animal lover as a child back in 1954, I asked Santa for a pony for Christmas. On Christmas morning when I woke up, I pictured this patched brown and white pony standing by the tree. Where would I keep it? What would I feed it?

But when I looked at the tree, there was no pony. My heart fell. Maybe it was outside. Then my Dad told me to look more closely. And there, leaning up between the wall and the Christmas tree was a wooden pony stick.

It had and old fashioned grey, white, and red sock for a head, white yarn for a mane, button eyes, and a broom handle for a body. I remember thinking that this was a lame pony! I had a great imagination and I’m sure that my parents were banking on this fact, but I was so disappointed.

I was sure that I would be thought of as an ungrateful, spoiled child if I complained or showed my disenchantment. I was only four years old, but these important events are often remembered by memories of emotions and feelings.

Upon re� ecting the following Christmas of the previous year’s Christmas � asco, I thought that maybe I had been too greedy. Now that I was an older and wiser � ve year old, I considered that perhaps Santa couldn’t afford a real pony.

Perhaps, too, it was my communication. If I had been more speci� c, would I have received a real pony? I still wanted one but I thought it wise to write to Santa and request for a more reasonable present like a two-wheeled bike. I was positive that I would succeed in my wish. After all, most of my friends had bicycles, and I was � ve.

This time when I went downstairs on Christmas morning, there was only a great big envelope for me. I was instructed to sit on the couch while my older sister sat to my left and opened the envelope

and read the contents as I couldn’t yet read. The big white card with mistletoe contained

lines and lines of somewhat familiar hand-writing. Sister Marion read the letter out loud that basically stated that while I was on Santa’s list of good little girls and boys, he knew that I would want my bicycle to go to a little Korean refugee.

I was stunned! I felt that especially after last year’s disappointment that I would have my wish granted. And what was a Korean refugee anyway? What did this have to do with me? In those days, children’s emotions and feelings were often ignored, that children should be seen and not heard.

Pinning together the written words, my sister’s gleeful tone, and the faces of my parents smirking at me, I � nally understood that Santa was Dad. I felt cheated and ‘had.’ How hard was it to � nd a bike?

I would have been happy with a second-hand bike. What gives? But with a stiff upper lip, I instead turned to my Christmas stocking with little gifts. I was thankful for at least that. But I indeed felt hoodwinked.

I eventually got my two-wheeler some years later, but the memory of Christmas 1955 lasted a lifetime. It wasn’t until some 30 years later when my Dad opened his Christmas present, it was in the form of an envelope.

He raised his eyebrow in a query. Inside was a letter from Santa explaining that while Dad had been a good boy all year and had requested an electric garage door opener for Christmas, Santa knew that he would understand that Santa instead gave money for his present to a little girl in Bhopal so that she may have the gift of sight.

A smile and a tear appeared on Dad’s face and of course a grumble that I was vengeful. Which of course I was, but not in a spiteful way.

We all learned lessons from that and Christmas and our gift-giving from then on was to charities.

~ Janice Sich



PRODUCTION DEPARTMENT

We hope that your holidays are

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CLASSIFIED DEPARTMENT 2012

Christmas was always a big event in our home, having three siblings it was always very exciting.

My Mom and Dad would often tell us later in life how they would go to work at Christmas parties or couples’ home Christmas get-togethers, and get home very very late but would always stay up, in one particular instance, to put together a kitchen set for us to enjoy which apparently had over 300 screws.

We always had to stay in our beds till they got up which was very dif� cult to do and if we happened to try to sneak a peek at what Santa might have brought us we were always disappointed because at that time we always had a sheet attached somehow across where the tree and gifts would be so as not to see anything.

As young children, it was a very special event we always received paint by numbers, plastic kitchen dish sets along with the odd doll or Barbie and colouring books with crayons.

Our socks always contained a lifesaver book, hard candies a terry chocolate orange and the toe always had a mandarin orange

in it, also a candy cane and sometimes doll

clothes which often were made by our Grandma along with a special Christmas card and a new � ve dollar bill and

a very special wrapped box of

saved empty thread spools and odd and

ends to make things with.We were all very excited

and by the time my Mom and Dad were both up we were then allowed into the living room. The excitement was overwhelming however we were not allowed to go through our socks until after we ate a big breakfast which my Dad would make.

The breakfast was usually the only day of the year we had to actually all sit down together to eat a big breakfast. This was explained to us later that they did not want us to get a tummy ache from eating too much candy � rst.

A very different time from today with all the electronic stuff, we actually learned how to play using our imaginations and play for hours together.

And of course we all wanted to share with our friends what Santa brought us and have them over or vice versa to play and check out our gifts.

We always appreciated my Mom and Dad’s sacri� ces for making our Christmas always very special.

We think back now that it was just as exciting for them as it was for all of us.

~ Patti Noble

Christmas was always a big

in it, also a candy cane and sometimes doll

clothes which often were made by our Grandma along with a special Christmas card and a new � ve dollar bill and

a very special wrapped box of

saved empty thread spools and odd and

ends to make things with.We were all very excited

and by the time my Mom and Dad were both up we were then allowed

I remember December 1954, and

we were living in Stanmore which is

in the northeast of the greater London

area. I was nine at the time and I

remember that some food rationing

had only recently ceased. My parents

were just making ends meet with all

the upheaval and shortage in the U.K

at the time. I use to come down the hill from

our primary school, and at the very

bottom of the hill in the village was a

toy shop that was full of every type of

Dinky toy and Hornby Dublo train sets

available. That December, I remember

seeing in the shop window a Bright

Yellow Foden Dinky truck. I so

wanted that truck for Christmas but it

was one pound three shillings which I

knew was just too much. I did put it on

my wish list and just hoped I might get

it and mentioned to my mom.

Christmas morning came and as

usual I was downstairs at some very

early hour. Mom and Dad came down

and we started to open the presents

under the tree. I looked for a parcel that

would be the right size for the Dinky

Truck but there just wasn’t one.

My excitement fell as I carried on

opening the parcels. I did � nd a small

Dinky car and a Beano annual comic

book. After getting a few small items

of clothes I was feeling very sad and

could only think of that bright yellow

truck I so wanted. Dad went out of the room, then

came back with a box about two feet

by two feet in size and 18 inches high,

all wrapped up in Christmas paper. He

said, “This was outside on the front

door and it has your name on it.”

I scrambled to open it and found

inside a fort all painted in camou� aged

colours with draw bridges and toy

soldiers on the ramparts and a military

band inside the walls. Dad had built

this at work over the past three months

and some of the trades people in the

company helped him with it.

It was something I least expected

and to this day I still remember that

fort on Christmas day, it was honestly

the best Christmas present I ever got.

The next time I looked at the truck in

the toy shop, it did not seem to spark

my interest anymore.Many years later, my Dad told me

that the fort cost about three shillings

and that was for the paint, the soldiers

had been given to him by a friend

who’s son felt he was to big to be

playing with toy soldiers and it was

that gesture that gave him the idea to

build the fort for me for Christmas. ~ Doug Grant



SALES DEPARTMENT

We wish you a wonderous and

magical season.

EDITORIAL DEPARTMENT2012

When I was a kid living in a small French Catholic community in northern Alberta, I can remember many a Christ-mas Eve spent at my aunt and uncle’s house. The older kids and their parents would go off to Midnight Mass while the younger kids where babysat and all put to bed until the arrival of the church goers.

Then everyone got woke up to share in the “Reveillon” which is a party with lots of food and gifts and drinks.

Money was very scarce in those days but our parents always made sure we had something to unwrap from Santa, “Le Pere Noel.” One of our uncles would usually leave the party for a short while and dress up in the Santa suit and knock at the door with a huge bag of gifts.

It was awesome to see all my cous-ins jumping up and down and squeal-ing with excitement at his arrival. It took me a while to realize that there was one uncle missing or at times my own fath-er went missing during this gift open-ing time. As we all got older and realized who Santa was, it was fun to watch our younger cousins during this fun time.

No matter how small or what the gift was, it was such a nice evening to look forward to and to this day, some 55 years later, it is still a very special memory for me.

I realize now that the memory of it all is my ongoing gift given to me from our loved ones, and I am so grateful for that.

~ Rose-Anne Turner

Here is my childhood Christmas gift story that I want to share with you and I’m sure you will appreciate it. When I was 12, my parents bought a farm in Canada to grow corn. My par-ents, seven-year- old brother, 14 year-old sister and me moved from Switzerland to the prov-ince of Quebec.

The � rst year we got here was very dif� -cult. My father had a little accident where he lost a � nger just at the beginning of the har-vesting. And the weather hadn’t be on our side, so the � rst harvest wasn’t very good. At Christmas time, my parents didn’t have a lot of money to make gifts. Also, we were used to have big family parties with all my aunts, un-cles and cousins.

But for the � rst time, we were only � ve people. It was very very quiet. My mother had the idea, to cheer us up, to make fake gifts. The gift stack looked much bigger like that. Twenty years later, I still remember my brother’s eyes when he unwrapped a big Swiss chocolate box.

He was so proud that he mocked at my sis-ter and me because we didn’t received a cool-er gift. But when he opened the chocolate box, there was only dried corn inside! No choco-late! It was so funny!

My mother tricked my father too with wine bottles full of corn. I don’t remember what I re-ceived that Christmas, but I remember, with a smile, my mother’s jokes!

~ Florence Berthold

It was 1973 and my parents had bought me a motor bike, a 100cc Kawasaki. All of that summer and fall, you would � nd me rid-ing—or I mean you could not � nd me as I was on and gone on that motor bike every single minute that I could � nd burning up every single ounce of gas that I could possible recover from every jerry can I could � nd for miles around. I loved to ride.

So that year I want-ed a ski-doo. I wanted a ski-doo more than anything in the whole world and I think more than anyone could want anything.

I was obsessed with having one so badly that well before Christmas my parents had re-assured me that I was going to get that ski-doo I wanted for Christmas, and I was sure they would not have just told me that to get me off

their back.I was so excited, so excited there was so

much bounce in my walk such a � re in my heart I was so happy I knew my parents would not let me down.

If they said they were going to give me a ski-doo for Christmas, then I was going to get that ski-doo. Christmas morning came I was the � rst one up and I was out side in a � ash looking for the biggest the best present that I could of ever imagined.

But disappointment set in quickly there was no ski-doo, no ski-doo tracks nothing that told me that I was getting that ski-doo I was prom-ised. But just then my parents came outside and asked me if I had found my present, there was great disappointment in my voice as I said, “no I can’t � nd it.”

My heart was broken, but my parents told me to look up to the window. And there it was on the window sill, this bright yellow ski-doo.

My parents were laughing and I stood there in devastation. This ski-doo, about eight inches long, was full of cologne. I was crushed.

~ Dan King



West Kelowna 250-769-7338 | Peachland 250-767-9060 1880 Byland Road, West Kelowna • www.jwrightplumbing.ca

Sheet MetalGas FittingParts & Service

~ Since 1967 ~J WRIGHT

Happy Holidays& all the Best in 2013

on behalf of the sta� at

J. Wright Plumbing

Plumbing & Heating Ltd.

JEANINE REISS | FYI HOME INSPECTIONS LTD

250-864-4054 | www.fyihomeinpsections.ca | [email protected]

Thank YouThank Youfor your business.

Wishing you all a joyous Holiday Season and a New Year � lled with

Health, Happiness and Prosperity!

Christmas Holiday Schedule

Garbage and Recycling CollectionWaste collection for the weeks of Dec 25th - 28th and Jan 1st - 4th will move one day later - i.e. Tuesday’s collection will move to Wed., Wed. collection will move to Thurs. etc. Friday’s collection will be Saturday.

Recycling & Land� ll Operations• Glenmore Land� ll & Recycling Depot - 2105 Glenmore Rd

7:30 am - 4:45 pm. Closed Dec 25th, 26th, Jan 1st• Westside Residential Waste Disposal & Recycling Centre - Asquith Rd

Days of operation: Fri, Sat, Sun, & Mon 7:30 am - 3:50 pm. Closed Dec 25th and Jan 1st. Recycling Depot is open seven days a week except for Christmas and New Years.

• Kirschner Road Recycling Depot - 1988 Kirschner Rd8 am - 6 pm. Closed Dec 25th and Jan 1st.

Remember to put all wrapping paper (not foil), � attened boxes & cartons into your recycling cart for curbside pick-up or take to your nearest recycling depot.

For more info please go to our website at regionaldistrict.com/recycle

Christmas Holiday ScheduleGarbage and Recycling CollectionWaste collection for the weeks of Dec 25 - 28 and Jan. 1 - 4 will move one day later - i.e. Tuesday’s collection will move to Wed., Wed. collection will move to Thurs. etc. Friday’s collection will be Saturday.

Recycling & Landfill OperationsŸ Glenmore Landfill & Recycling Depot, 2105 Glenmore Rd

(7:30 am - 4:45 pm, closed Dec. 25, 26, Jan.1)Ÿ Westside Residential Waste Disposal & Recycling Centre,

Asquith Rd. Days of operation: Fri. Sat. Sun, Mon. (7:30 am - 3:50 pm, closed Dec. 25 and Jan. 1). Recycling Depot is open seven days a week except for Christmas and New Years.

Ÿ Kirschner Road Recycling Depot, 1988 Kirschner Rd. (8 am - 6 pm. Closed Dec. 25 and Jan. 1)

Remember to put all wrapping paper (not foil), flattened boxes and cartons into your recycling cart for curbside recycling pick-up or take to your nearest recycling depot.

For more info please go to our website at regionaldistrict.com/recycle

In the late 1950s, my grand-mother had over 40 grandkids. Being on limited income and living with her youngest son, who had eight kids of his own, money was scarce.

Every Christmas, all 40 of us would line up and Grand-ma sitting in her favorite chair with a knitted aghan on her knees would give us each a small brown paper bag includ-ing a few kinds words, a hug and kiss and away we would go to check out our little bag.

It always consisted of the same thing . One Christmas or-ange, one candy cane, a hand-ful of hard candy and peanuts. We would all hang on to our little bag until it was all eaten.

Grandma made each one of us feel so special by know-ing all of our names and pre-senting us with this little bag of goodies.

It was heart warming. That is my Christmas gift memory. More then 58 years later, it’s still one of my best memories.

Probably a gift of less then a dollar in value, but it made a lasting impression on me. I will never forget it.

~ Jeannine Godbout

I was 13 when I received my most memorable gift. Of course, that was a time when kids were not as worldly and I was very naïve.

My favourite uncle, who had a great sense of humour, gave it to me. He had only one son who was a year older than me. Since I was his god-daughter, I also became ‘his girl.’ When I was quite young, he nick-named me ‘Stinky’. I soon became ‘Little Stinky’ and he was dubbed ‘Big Stinky’. Now, perhaps you can gather, from our nicknames, what was the theme of our gift-giving?

Each year, at Christmas, birthdays and Easter, we would give each other the stinkiest presents we could find. We roamed stores for nasty items and even made them.

We even had friends and family searching for gifts and planning with us throughout the year.

The Christmas that I was 13 was one I will never forget. Fortunately, I opened the gift only in front of my parents and grandmother—not the 30 to 40 other relatives in the family, which would have been most embar-rassing to say the least.

As usual, I opened the medium-sized parcel with care since I never knew what I was getting from Big Stinky. It looked like a cube of some sort. When I got all the paper off it, I saw that it was a box that had a door that opened. It kind of looked like a little house. Sure, enough that is what it was! It was a Hippie Outhouse!

As I opened the door, a little man turned around to face me and peed all over me. I had never been so embar-rassed! The quicker and more force-ful you opened the door, the further the arc of the little man’s spray trav-elled.

Needless to say, my parents and grandmother had a good laugh at my expense and so did Big Stinky when I thanked him for his gift. Of course, this meant war! I couldn’t wait to get rid of it and gave it back to him as a present on another occasion. As the years went on, the presents became more and more raunchy, from a bou-quet of skunk cabbage to canned horse manure.)

Needless to say, at the time I was so embarrassed that I did not appre-ciate my uncle’s sense of humour. But now, almost 50 years later, each Christmas I look back on that gift and appreciate the fun (and love) that it gave the family.

Of course, now I can laugh at it; I do wish that I still had it to more fully enjoy the memories that it brings me.

Big Stinky has long since passed away, but maybe when I meet him again, I will have yet another ‘Stinky present’ (that tops his) for him to enjoy a good laugh!

~ Eileen Cousineau

My 14th Christmas gift was something I had hoped for seven years. I got a beauti-ful bike!!!

I was thrilled, and the first time I road it down the street I saw (for the very first time) one of my girlfriends riding in a car all snuggled up to a new boy-friend.

None of my friends ever rode their bikes after that and it left me feeling awkward, but my bike was so special to me that I enjoyed it for around an-other two years—just not with my girlfriends.

~ Sharon Loken


At Christmastime, we set out to choose gifts that show our af-fection or appreciation, but the process of knowing who should be on our gift list and what to get them can create stress. It doesn’t have to be that way. Keep the holiday cheer in your gift-giving with these simple tips.

Gifts for Family and Close FriendsYou know who the people are on this list, and you usual-

ly know what is customary. When choosing gifts for family and friends, let your heart be your guide. Don’t be as concerned about matching gifts dollar for dollar.

If you select something that has meaning to the recipient, your gift will make a much greater impact than if you merely select a gift to “keep things even.”

Gifts of AppreciationIt’s customary to give something to people who perform servi-

ces for us during the year, from the hairdresser we see every other month to the nanny we entrust our children to every day, or the employees that run our business. Then there are all those in the middle like our children’s teachers, the dog walker, and the clean-ing ladies.

In many of these situations it’s more customary to give a cash gift. For example, you would typically give your nanny anywhere from one to four weeks pay depending on her length of service with you. Cleaning staff, personal trainers and dog walkers usual-ly receive a tip equal to one week or one session’s pay. For teach-ers, daycare staff, and instructors of after school lessons, a gift or gift card in the value of $15 to $30 is appropriate, depending on the economics of your community.

Tricky SituationsAlmost everyone has at one time or another been presented

with a Christmas gift that was unexpected, and had nothing to give in return. When this happens to you, just accept the gift with ap-propriate thanks, and don’t feel you need to make excuses or run out to get a reciprocal gift.

If you receive a gift you don’t like or can’t use, you need to thank the giver without hurting his or her feelings. At a later date you can return it to the store for something you do need or would like.

Spreading cheer and appreciation with holiday gifts


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One of the things that stands out for me in my Christ-mas memories is the smell of

Christmas. My mom was al-ways in the kitchen, baking cookies or bread for friends,

family and neighbors. I have carried on her tradition for years now and my kids and I bake for family (even Mom), neighbors, co-workers, teach-ers, etc. The family votes on what our baking list for the year will be and everyone (even my husband) pitches in. The kids love being able to take home-baked goodies to teach-ers and bus drivers and bak-ing something every night as a family tends to cut down on the Christmas bustle that goes on around us. While we bake we listen to Christmas music and share our day.

~ Kim Jones

As a child and only girl in the family, Mom always fixed Christmas dinner and candy. I never did either until she passed, but I remember her using a wooden spoon to stir the candy with, so I went home and got her wooden spoon. Next Christmas after her pass-ing I decided to give it a try.

Never making candy before I got the wooden spoon out and starting making candy and it seemed like she was right there with me thru it all.

My candy was perfect so my wooden spoon is so very special. This I remember every Christmas when it comes time to make candy for family and friends.

~ Gail SimmsSeveral years ago, as a sin-gle parent, I was attending col-lege, and had no money for Christmas.

Friends pulled together, and we ended up having a good Christmas. A friend lent me her tree, and my 2 college girl-friends gave us some presents. When we opened them, we found to our surprise that they were homemade dill pickles in several jars, and homemade jam. We had never had such wonderful dill pickles! We enjoyed them and the jam for months.

So, it doesn’t take much to make people happy on Christ-mas, when your budget is low. I will never forget that Christ-mas!

~ Sheila Hughbanks


Letters on this page are from the website christianity.about.com

I can’t remember a Christmas that we didn’t go to my Granny’s house on Christmas Eve. We would have snacks, and when everyone arrived, we would hand out the presents. Everyone would begin tossing paper from here to yonder. LOL. I moved to another city when I was 18, and I didn’t get back home a lot, unless it was a holiday.

Well, in late October of 1998, I went to my granny’s house to see her before Halloween. She wanted to go ahead and give me my birthday gift (which was odd, since my birthday was in late November). I thought she was just excited I was there, and wanted me to have it early.

She handed me another gift, and said this is part of your Christmas, I want you to go ahead and take it.

I opened it up and it was a Winnie the Pooh sweatshirt. My Granny passed away at the end of November. She wanted to make sure I got my Christmas present. I wear that sweatshirt around Christmas every year, and it feels like she’s just right there with me.

~ Tabatha LaFollette

Capital News Friday, December 21, 2012 www.kelownacapnews.com VPBV12 www.kelownacapnews.com Friday, December 21, 2012 Capital News

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