Rudolfo Anaya’s The Farolitos of Christmas: With “Season of Renewal” and “A Child’s Christmas in New Mexico, 1944”

Christmas in New Mexico is a special time. The many cultures of the state offer a plethora of ceremonies and traditions for everyone’s enjoyment. From the very young to grandparents, this season of renewal is alive with heartwarming activities. Visitors come from everywhere to enjoy the spirit of Christmas as it is celebrated in New Mexico. One of the most colorful traditions is the lighting of farolitos on Christmas Eve.
At the center of this season of light is the birth of Jesus and the promise of peace he brought to the world, but one need not be a Christian to enjoy the Christmas story.

Think of the drama involved: Jesus is born in poverty, three wise men follow a glowing star to arrive at his birth, shepherds and their sheep gather around the manger, keeping the baby warm. He is born in Bethlehem because his parents are fleeing the wrath of Herod. No wonder it’s been called the greatest story ever told. Still, we need to remind ourselves that other religions also have beautiful creation stories.

When I was a child Christmas was my favorite time. I was born to a large Catholic family and grew up in Santa Rosa, New Mexico. We were poor but only if one measures by economic means. In love and spirit we were rich. We celebrated the season, as did countless other New Mexicans, and we kept true to centuries-old customs and traditions. Because of the love I have for Christmas, I was inspired to write the stories included in this book.

Years ago I wrote The Farolitos of Christmas for our granddaughter, Kristan. When she stayed with my wife and me, I used to put her to bed and tell her bedtime stories. “Where did farolitos come from?” she asked one night. To answer her I composed the story of the farolitos. Once there was a little girl named Luz, and she helped her grandfather, Abuelo, keep a promise he had made. You see, every Christmas Abuelo cut piñon wood for luminarias. He stacked the wood in twelve piles from his home to the road. When the pastores (shepherds) approached he lit the wood. The pastores stopped at the bonfires and sang the songs from this old miracle play. Traditionally, luminarias are lighted outside churches on Christmas Eve. Think of them as the fires the shepherds were burning to keep warm the night Jesus was born. Traditions such as these stretch back in history.

This Christmas Abuelo was too sick to cut the wood. He had made a promesa to the Santo Niño that he would light the luminarias that Christmas Eve. In return, the Santo Niño would bring his son home safe from war. A promise to a saint must be kept. Perhaps you have seen penitents walking to Chimayó on Good Friday. Each person has promised a saint that he or she will walk many miles if the saint will grant the penitent’s request. For example, if a family member is very sick, someone in the family makes a promise to walk to the Santuario de Chimayó on Good Friday. In return, their special saint will cure the sick person.

What could Luz do to help her Abuelo keep his promise? She discovers that by placing a candle in a plain paper bag the candle’s light will glow brightly. She makes the first farolito, a lantern, and thus helps Abuelo keep his promise. The story was my way of explaining to my granddaughter how farolitos came to be. Remember, before we had paper bags from the grocery stores we couldn’t make farolitos, we could only make luminarias. I also wrote the story as a play that has been produced many times,thus celebrating the child’s role in Christmas.

Luminarias and farolitos both refer to light, and Christmas is about the light of renewal. Today, both words “luminaria” and “farolito” are used interchangeably, but traditionally, luminarias are bonfires and farolitos are the candles burning in bags. Word usage changes with time and people. I hope the lighting of farolitos remains a tradition far into the future. The spectacular array of glowing lights remind us that each of us carries the light of Christmas within.

New Mexico is a multicultural state, and the “Season of Renewal” is about Christmas celebrations that reflect this diversity. For me the beginning of the season occurs on December 12 when the Matachines dance at Jemez Pueblo. My wife and I attended for many years. Around that time people begin to decorate their homes with bright lights, and on Christmas Eve comes the lighting of farolitos. Some celebrate the feast of the Three Kings (día de los Reyes) on January 6, and so the season extends to that date. In some countries children put out their shoes where gifts can be deposited. In other countries children put out straw and water for the camels of the Three Kings. Today the custom is to put out a glass of milk and a plate of cookies for Santa Claus.
Our custom of asking for “mis Crismes” may be particular to New Mexico, yet it has ancient roots. I think it may even have its origins in the gifts the Three Kings brought for Jesus.

So many beautiful and fulfilling ceremonies take place, and many have a historical basis. Those that take place in the Indian pueblos have their own local, religious significance. I vividly remember a Christmas Eve at Taos Pueblo when my wife and I and other visitors danced around the blazing luminarias outside the church. Later we were invited into a home to share a meal.

Over the years my wife and I attended dances at many of our Indian pueblos. We didn’t know the full meaning of the dances, but there we were, participating in our own way in the sacredness of the dance. After the dance we were always invited into someone’s home to eat. So it is with Christmas; everyone is invited to share in the many ceremonies of the cultures our state has to offer.

1944 was an important year for me. I was seven and beginning new rites of passage. The war was about to end, and the country was slowly coming out of the Great Depression. In New Mexico the effects of the Depression would linger for years, but for a child who had the love and safety of family, Christmas was a time of joy and excitement. In “A Child’s Christmas in New Mexico, 1944” I tried to capture the innocence of that Christmas Day. Waking up to the aromas of food wafting from my mother’s kitchen was heaven. All week she had been preparing traditional Christmas dishes, and soon aunts, uncles, and neighbors would visit. My mother fed everyone.
Like most boys of that age I wanted a bike, but it was too expensive and we didn’t have the money. Instead, my sisters and I received more useful gifts, clothes. No fancy games or toys, only the clothes we needed. I still remember the underwear I received that Christmas Day, a pair of long johns. Given the cold winters of the eastern New Mexico llano, my long johns spoke of my mother’s love.

The tradition was to wake up early, grab a paper bag, and run to ask neighbors for “mis Crismes.” We were asking for “my Christmas gift.” Kind of like Halloween today. I don’t know where the tradition started, but it does resonate with the story of the Three Kings who came bearing gifts for Jesus. Other countries also continue this custom of giving gifts to children.

Running out into the freezing Christmas morning to fill my sack with as many goodies as I could get was exhilarating. Then she usually made me sing a song before she gave me the empanada. Those empanadas of long ago were the sweetest treat anyone could get. Whatever neighbors had on hand they gave, just like my parents gave of their hospitality. The joy was in giving, but, truthfully, for us kids it was in receiving. When we opened a Christmas package we shouted, “Look what I got!”. When my sisters woke up they would ask, “What did you get?” and I would share my Crismes goodies with them.

That night we had attended midnight mass in the Santa Rosa de Lima Church across the river. Walking three miles in the cold was a penance we didn’t mind. Maybe our midnight trek reflected in a small way the journey of Joseph and Mary looking for posada, a place of rest where Jesus could be born. For us that posada was the warm church full of neighbors, and not a choir of angels but the church choir singing “Las Mañanitas,” a birthday song for Jesus. A spiritual aura filled the night, filled us with warmth on our return home to our own posada, where I fell into a warm bed to dream dreams of “mis Crismes.”

That year there was hope in the air. The war would end and my three brothers would come home, more jobs would be available for my hard pressed paisanos. In the poem the people comment, “no teníanos nada” (we didn’t have anything). They meant we didn’t have many of the material things others possessed, but we did enjoy the true meaning of Christmas, we were family and we were together.

The poem is a song of innocence, an innocence lost. Our way of life was changing. In school we were learning traditions of the Anglo-American culture. Santa Claus, Christmas trees, and Christmas carols like “Silent Night” were creeping into our Spanish speaking New Mexican culture. The ways of our ancestors, who for many centuries had labored on the land, were changing. Christmas would come to reflect a mixture of cultures, but I will never forget that Christmas morning I ran out to ask for “mis Crismes.”

Presents were simple maybe an apple, orange, a handful of dried prunes or piñon, and some hard candy. If I was lucky I might receive an empanada from my tía Piedad, but it is sharing that best describes our Christmas traditions. Or is it food? Every family prepares its own traditional dishes. My mother prepared a large pot of posole, chile con carne, beans, tamales, fried potatoes, stacks of tortillas, pastelitos, empanadas, and natillas. The extended family was fed. Sharing and food came together.
There are many ceremonies and events that take place during Christmas season. From the intimate family reunion to large-scale public events, there is something for everyone to enjoy. Events are usually well publicized in newspapers and New Mexico Magazine. The birth of Jesus story and a variety of Christmas songs celebrate the season. I hope my book also reflects the spirit of Christmas.

These stories are primarily for children, but I’m sure they can touch the hearts of young and old, parents or grandparents. I describe what Christmas was like during my childhood, maybe because when we are children we most fully participate in the joy of Christmas. I invite you to be part of the Christmas traditions and customs of New Mexico, and let the child in you be touched by the spiritual message embodied in this season of renewal.

Rudolfo Anaya
Albuquerque, March 2015