I wasn't spending the holidays with my family... and instead found an unexpected gift with strangers.
I recall that as a child I would open the really big Christmas presents first, then the ones that made intriguing sounds when shaken. Sometimes I would rip open the wrapping paper and discover something far greater than what I expected. Looking back, I remember that feeling of finding treasure, although I can't remember what the gift was; the emotion, not the object, stays in my mind.
Last year I was reminded of that feeling when I received a wonderful Christmas gift. Something quite unexpected. Something rare and precious...
The Tatamagouche, NS, Creamery felt festive on the afternoon of December 25th. Sunlight poured in through the windows, there was a Christmas tree near the doors, children played in the corner of the room. It felt like a large house party even though it was a warehouse-like building, used to make butter for 80 years.
Once I had decided I wouldn't be going out West to spend Christmas with my family, I made plans to spend the day with friends. This changed after another friend, Av Singh, told me about Christmas at the Creamery, and I immediately knew where I wanted to be.
The event first ran in 2004 when Av and his wife, Karen Shepard, decided to do something different for their family Christmas. They wanted their children to have an experience beyond tearing open presents, and also wanted to hold an event that would bring together the community of Tatamagouche, on Nova Scotia's north shore. "Av has a real vision for community and for people working together for a common good," says colleague Bill Thomas. At the third annual Christmas at the Creamery last year, 60 volunteers-including myself-fed 300 people in the hall and delivered 120 meals to people in surrounding communities.
Initially, Av and Karen thought about holding a dinner to feed people "in need." But instead, they decided to invite the whole community. "We've got to redefine 'need,'" Av says. "The fact that 90 people volunteered on Christmas Day for the first dinner means that people want to be part of something bigger than what's happening in their own homes."
There was one hour left before the doors would open. Everywhere I looked, volunteers were busy-setting tables, preparing food or searching for their names on the volunteer roster. In the kitchen, Carole Downey was assembling a serving line for the meals to be delivered. I offered to help.
As she slotted me into the line of servers, Carole told me she volunteers at the event because she loves the sense of community. "My son is in Alberta with my grandchildren," she said. "If I can't be with my grandchildren at Christmas, I want to be with my community."
On my right, at the head of the serving line, Robie Sagar was doling out turkey and smiles. "I'd rather not spend Christmas any other way," he said. A former resident of Tatamagouche, Robie drove from Halifax where he works as a builder and is part owner of the restaurant The Wooden Monkey. "The dinner here warms everyone's heart."
In each container, we put a traditional Christmas meal-turkey, squash, mashed potatoes, peas and carrots. We pass the meals to volunteers who will deliver them to housebound people in Tatamagouche and the surrounding communities.
Jesse Thomas, 17, says that volunteering at this event is his family tradition. "I'd rather do this than just run downstairs, open my presents and then just sit around," he says. This is great."
Jesse's mother, Jean, said that, three years ago, when she first proposed spending Christmas Day at the Creamery, her five children (aged 11 to 20 at the time) liked the idea. The family celebrated Christmas in the community on the 25th and at home on Boxing Day. The following year, the children approached their parents to ask if they could do it again.
Two sisters who had volunteered the last two years were absent-Lyn Sutherland said her daughters were spending Christmas away as part of a nine-month volunteer commitment to Katimavik, a federal program where youth aged 17 to 21 spend nine months living and volunteering with other young people from across Canada. In their stead were 20 participants from the Tatamagouche and Truro Katimavik groups. Many of these young people were experiencing their first Christmas away from home.
In the corner near the door, Katimavik volunteers were organizing activities for children. In the second year the kids' area was moved upstairs, but returned downstairs the following year after one of the seniors said she missed watching the children play while she ate her dinner.
After the meal is over, the leftovers go to Alice MacRae. She adds salt cod to the mashed potatoes to make fish cakes; she uses the turkey bones to make stock, adding meat and vegetables to make soup. These foods are frozen and distributed to families in need throughout the winter.
Even though I didn't see a jar for donations and no hat was passed around, many people give money. Av Singh smiled as he told me about a seven-year-old girl who raised $90 for the event. Spontaneous donations amount to more than what is needed to buy the food; in the dinner's second year, more than $1,000 was given to families in need.
The beauty of this free meal is that it is open to all, and there is no social stigma attached being here. Once we start to volunteer, we put bright red Christmas at the Creamery T-shirts over our clothes. When we go off-duty, we pass the shirts to the next shift. After I sat down to eat, a person whom I had just served brought me my meal. Av feels that this is another important part of the whole experience: "As well as serving others, it is important to be served," he says.
As I ate, I heard stories of neighbours and buildings; the controversy over charging for parking on the main street. The woman next to me had recently bought a house in Tatamagouche and had just found out about the dinner the night before, on Christmas Eve. Another man was on his own: his wife had passed away and his children were far away. A nurse and her husband came because it was too difficult to fit cooking Christmas dinner into her shift work schedule.
Old-timers shared stories with young people and the newcomers to the community. Some people sat with their friends as they came in; others welcomed the chance to meet new people.
In the first hour of the meal I was assigned to waiting tables. As soon as the doors opened, a grey-haired soft-shouldered man walked past the empty tables straight over to the far corner of the room, and sat down.
I brought him a meal and sat with him until the table filled up. He asked where I was from-the standard Maritime greeting, more common than introducing yourself. As we talked he told me, like so many others had that day, that his children and grandchildren were out West.
After he finished eating he lingered, and I refilled his cup. Just before leaving he winked at me as he wrapped several cookies in his napkin and put them in his pocket. I laughed and wished him Merry Christmas.
I understood then what another volunteer had mentioned earlier. Having the opportunity to do a small thing, such as sitting with a person who was alone on Christmas Day, was a wonderful gift in itself, and much more than I expected.
Sharing the Sharing
Christmas at the Creamery, in Tatamagouche, NS, reaches out to people from diverse backgrounds and affiliations: local churches, the Tatamagouche Centre (a United Church retreat and learning facility), Dorje Denma Ling (a Shambhala Buddhist Centre) and the local Mennonite community. The dinner provides an opportunity for those outside the Christian church to experience the heart of the Christmas message; people without religious leanings also participate. "It's important for the community to open its arms to everyone," said David Sutherland, the official greeter.
The meal meets the needs of the volunteers as well as the diners. "Everyone has a need for community-a need to connect to other people, a need to touch others and be touched, a need to extend a hand," says one participant.
The dinner is announced in a local newspaper, in information packages sent to churches and on posters, but word of mouth remains the most effective way to spread the message. The organizers don't solicit donations; however produce, meat and desserts are provided by local businesses for free or at a reduced cost, and individuals donate money or, say, frozen turkeys, as well as their time. On Christmas Eve, volunteers decorate the hall and wash, peel and chop vegetables. The food is cooked on Christmas morning at community and fire halls. For food safety reasons, the turkeys aren't stuffed, and the dressing is made separately.
The organizers post a volunteer roster on the wall, with the names of people, their tasks and the time schedule. In addition to their assigned tasks, many people just jump in and do whatever they see needs to be done. Overall, it works well though sometimes there's confusion over who is supposed to be doing what. "A bit of chaos is okay," Av says. "Not everything works perfectly but that's alright. It gives it the feeling of being with family."
Av's ultimate advice is to "try to have fun." Food provides a good forum for fun celebrations, and free meals are open to all.