Our daughters first touched the waters of Baie de St. Jean when they were
only months old, hats bigger than they were, and eyes grasping the blues
that probably colored their memory in some unforgettable way. My husband and
I would spend luxurious moments transiting the island hills with them
sleeping in the car seats we had hauled down, appreciating the exotic
tranquility of Cote Au Vent even more so. As the girls grew, and packed
items for the holiday changed from diapers and formula, to bikinis and
flippers, our traditions didn’t vary much at all. Christmas eve is still
spent in the Anglican Church with family singing along to verse upon verse
of favorite Christmas Carols, taking turns at the lectern reading an
appropriate psalm, and looking forward to whose little child will put the
Baby Jesus in the crèche. No matter your religion, no matter the political
climate. On this warm evening love is love the world around and it is that
which the congregation celebrates in an exquisitely simple way.
According to our tradition, dinner within walking distance from the church follows. We love the spirit in Gustavia that night. Locals and the rest of us mingle, wishing each other merry merries, champagne corks popping over the heads of kids asleep under restaurant tables, harbor side music bouncing off the water. Such gaiety, and relief! For some that means the presents are under the tree, and the stockings poised. Yachts lining the harbor have front row seats to the gleaming windows of Cartier and Hermes, and for some all the action of last minute shopping can be both electrifying and full of extravagance. For others, the quest for the perfect tee shirt gift or book can be just as exciting.
Over the years we have established other traditions that have evolved over
time, and no matter how hard my husband and I try to wrap our gifts and get
them under the tree by some reasonable hour, we have found it next to
impossible. So now the girls know that there may be a few extra pieces of
fruit filling up the toes of their stockings, and more sleeping in on
Christmas morning than there used to be, but they know that our bed is for
piling upon and that chocolate will be eaten before breakfast! Glorious
Christmas mornings of soft air and warm tiles under foot are such a far cry
from the bitter New England winds, we remind ourselves as we prepare for a
full day of festivities centered around our villa. After padding around with
our coffees for awhile, holding the kids at bay for a few more minutes of
regrouping (or wrapping that which was forgotten), we settle in for a love
fest of ribbons and thank you hugs, and hope that the rest of the family and
invited friends don’t arrive for lunch before we have all jumped in the
pool, or taken a swim in Lorient Bay.
Continued
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