My dad was a Cop in Pittsburgh, one of the few Jewish Policemen (I use policemen because in the 1950s women were still second-class citizens, wearing pearl necklaces and fancy aprons cleaning houses and were too frail to even be considered brave or tough enough for police duty.) The majority of police officers working with my father, were families born into immigrant homes of Italians, Irish, Polish and Hungarian descent. For many of the families of these police officers, our family was the only Jews they had met, or at least spoken to. But during Christmas time, especially Christmas Eve, many of my father's co-workers would invite our family to celebrate the season by having dinner, or desserts.
My sisters and I loved the idea, and throughout the ’50s, we learned the various ethnic and cultural traditions, that the various nationalities performed during the Christmas Season. Not only did we get to taste perogies, stuffed cabbage, and pasta of every shape and size, we also decorated trees, and got to touch the actual figures placed in the Nativity Scenes, under the trees. We even were told, by some of the kids of these families, that even though WE were Jewish, they did not blame us for Christ’s eventual death. Some did tell us that it might not be a good idea to visit certain homes at Easter time.
Having gone to public school in the 50’s and having myself been selected as the lead angel in one of our Christmas pageants, as the entire school gathered around the Christmas Tree with a Nativity Scene, I knew all the lyrics to all the Christmas Carols of the time, even the songs that about four stanzas. So when we sang some Christmas songs at the homes of Christians, and my sisters and I belted out the lyrics, great shock and awe appeared on the faces of our peers.
Back then, policeman’s salaries paid very little, but most of the homes we visited provided plenty of well-wrapped gifts under the tree, and it was truly a fun and colorful experience in my younger years. It was also an informal educational experience when much to their dismay, these kids wondered how we survived not getting presents on Christmas. We explained we were way cooler because we got gifts eight nights in a row.
To all who celebrate, Christmas, please have a Merry and Joyful one. And as you share your gifts, set aside some love for the kids in American Concentration Camps, neighborhoods where the income is below the poverty level, the families left homeless, the families, whose loved ones won’t be home due to the NRA and their love for guns… and I suppose as you celebrate the birth of Jesus, ask out loud, What Would Jesus Really Do with the village we all share, and would he want to be celebrated, whiles so many others suffer!
