When I think about my favorite Christmas memory, it’s not the presents
or the tinsel on the tree that come to mind—it’s the long, lazy summer
days spent at my grandparents’ farm with my cousins. For me, Christmas
in Australia is about sun-kissed skin, laughter in the air, endless
games, and a big slice of juicy watermelon in hand.
Every year,
my family would pack up the car and make the trip to my grandparents’
farm, where Christmas was celebrated in true Aussie style. The farm was
our playground a sprawling paradise of open fields and endless room to
explore. My grandparents’ house, with its wide verandah and
old-fashioned charm, became the heart of our Christmas gatherings.
After
a big Christmas lunch, which always featured, cold ham, and salads
galore, we’d head outside, trying to escape the afternoon heat. My
cousins and I would grab slices of watermelon from the giant tub my
grandparents filled with ice that morning. It wasn’t just any watermelon
it was farm-grown, perfectly ripe, and sweeter than anything you’d find
in a shop.
We’d sit together on the grass, the juice dripping
down our chins as we tried to see who could spit the seeds the furthest.
But the fun didn’t stop there. We played countless games of cricket,
three legged races, running barefoot through the grass until we were too
tired to move. The laughter was endless, and even the adults would join
in, showing off their bowling skills or cheering us on from the
verandah.
And then there was Grandad. Every Christmas, he would
pull out his box of magic tricks a collection of cards, coins, and
illusions that seemed impossible to figure out. We’d all crowd around
him, wide-eyed and eager, as he made coins disappear, guessed our chosen
cards. We never tired of his tricks, even though we swore we’d figure
them out someday (we never did). Grandad’s magic brought us all
together, and for those moments, the world felt truly magical.
As
the sun dipped lower in the sky, the farm came alive with the golden
glow of a summer evening. We’d sit on the verandah, swapping stories and
eating more watermelon, while Grandad shared tales of Christmases past.
The day always ended with us huddled under the stars, tired but happy, the sound of cicadas and our shared laughter filling the warm summer air.
Looking
back, those farm Christmases were so much more than a day of
celebration they were a reminder of what really matters. It wasn’t the
gifts or the decorations that made it special. It was the togetherness,
the laughter, and the simple joys of being with the people I loved most.
Even
now, whenever I bite into a slice of watermelon or see a deck of cards,
it takes me back to those golden days at my grandparents’ farm. It’s a
tradition and a memory I carry with me, and one I hope to pass on.
Because
in the end, that’s what Christmas is all about family, laughter, magic,
and those small, beautiful moments that stay with you forever.
What does Christmas look like for you? Let’s share the joy of the season together. Merry Christmas 🎄
Christine Bunn
Post Views : 519