Once upon a time I was bi-lingual—Norwegian was my second language. I’ve referenced those wonderful childhood years in Norway in previous posts, but I’m thinking of them today as Christmas approaches and friends and readers are in my thoughts. Though I’m no longer fluent in Norwegian, two words come to mind: koselig and hyggelig, words that defy adequate translation into English. Cozy comes close, but doesn’t do them justice.
Christmas and the shortest day of the year are times when koselig and hyggelig describe how Norwegians feel while creating an atmosphere to keep the darkness and cold at bay. It is a palpable feeling of celebration and well-being.
Woolen caps, mittens, fur-lined coats and boots are gratefully discarded in the outer hallway. A brightly colored, blazing fire in the fireplace spreads warmth and festive candlelight help to set the tone of the evening. Hot chocolate, steaming coffee, tea, gløgg, red wine, and sparkling drinks facilitate the harmony of the moment. Meals, sumptuous entrees with tasty, colorful desserts and pastries to follow are shared with family and friends. Spirited, fun-loving people gather, and a lyrical sing-song of voices in conversation occurs while laughter echoes from room to room.
An enveloping sense of tranquility and belonging takes place, one in which friends and family feel safe and secure, as they leave the cold night air to relax in each other’s presence.
With the warmth, contentment and comfort of koselig and hyggelig, I wish you a joyful holiday and a Merry Christmas, or as Norwegians say “God Jul!”
by 
You paint a wonderful picture of Christmas Roger, one that brings back many melancholy memories of my own. I grew up in Johnstown and Pittsburgh, not as romantic a place as Norway. But I do remember the feeling of warmth and coziness as we came in from the cold, with our rubber knee-top boots and leggings and mittens and knit caps. Wonderful memories! Have a wonderful Vermont Christmas Roger!–Bill
Thanks, Bill, and the visual image of you in your knee-top boots and leggings (been awhile since I’ve used this word) isn’t far removed from my experience. Merry Christmas!
Roger
Christmas will always be about making music to hail the day for me. This year, we are performing the Benjamin Britten Ceremony of Carols, one of my most favorite pieces. I will think of you.
Giny,
Thank you, likewise, and if a tape or disc is made of the performance I’d love to hear it. Sing well, and Merry Christmas to you and Dave!
Roger
Your memories and delightful descriptions of coming in from the cold to the warmth and comfort of celebrations of the season with family and friends evoke variations of the same for your readers. Mine are of awakening in the still dark early morning to the footsteps of my parents and older brother returning from midnight mass, and asking in excited anticipation,
“Did he come yet?” Then, tiptoeing out to the sunporch to discover the magic of Christmas in a lighted and decorated tree, which Santa had brought, along with a thrilling train circling a snow-covered village beneath, and wrapped presents to be opened to reveal the wished for toys, a Tiny Tears doll, and Lincoln Logs for building. “God Jul,” mon ami, with prayers for peace on earth.
Colette,
I wonder how many of us have exclaimed “Did he come yet!” only to find out, as you aptly describe–yes, he has. The reality and symbol are wonderfully mixed. Christmas Eve is one of those nights when we sleep with eyes closed, but heart and soul filled with restless anticipation. Thank you for letting us in to your world of Christmas memories.
God Jul!
Roger
I was a Lincoln log recipient also, about 65 years ago. And a train, of course, with a log-loader. It could be that my parents wanted me to be a lumberjack! If so, I missed my calling.
Bill,
Your parents may have been lumberjack or engineer inclined for you, but you’ve spent 65 years hauling, loading, unloading, and cutting away the chaff from people’s lives so they can live fully into who God intended them to be. I’ll buy that set of Lincoln logs any day!
Thank you,
Roger
Your memories make me long for my Swedish neighbors who would put on a beautiful smorgashborg at Christmas. My childhood memories are waking up Christmas morning with the fire place screen askew and wall to wall presents. We were a family of ten children so that happens easily. My father would read out the gift tags one by one and we would wait our turn as each opened their gift. This tradition left me with a feeling of deep respect for each gift and giver.
Today I say gone are the days when we filmed our children running into the living room with such excitement. Michael would grab a laundry basket to carry his loot and Ria would snuggle under the Christmas quilt. She still does that.
It all has changed, but it all is still wonderful. An eight year old and a four year old give us that spirit today. Life is wonderful in all it’s challenges and blessed memories.
Have a wonderful Christmas and thank you so much for the memories you shared.
Carmen,
I love the picture of the child with a laundry basket to carry away his loot, as well as the one snuggled under the quilt. I imaging Michael and Ria retain the fondness too. Change is wonderful and painful, but memories endure as does the spirit of Christmas even as the “players” change.
Thank you for sharing these “gifts.”
Roger
I feel much like you Roger. Having spent 11 Christmases in Germane and being of Germany descent I miss the close family ties, the trips to the Christmas markets,the German Christmas music, the special food for the holidays and a very special time celebrating Christmas with several youngsters in an orphanage where I saw live candles being lit on a Christmas tree. I will always remember these experiences.
Bud,
Thank you for offering these memories–markets, foods, and the giving to children where lights on a tree and I suspect in hearts were lit with love in the true spirit of Christmas. Glad these memories stay alive for you! The wonderment of the season.
Cheers,
Roger