CHRISTMAS MEMORIES - A glimpse into the warm and personal Christmas memories of Arimbi Nimpuno

 

Catching up with an old friend often means revisiting shared history. Recently, over steaming cups of coffee, my high school friend Arimbi and I found ourselves swept into a conversation that turned entirely to Christmas—its magic, its meaning, and the memories that shape it. Here, I share the stories from her festive recollection 

Thinking back to your childhood, how would you describe the holiday atmosphere in your house? What feelings defined it for you? 

My fond memories of Christmas during my childhood. I grew up in Vienna, where Christmas wasn’t just a date on the calendar — it was a season that wrapped itself around the whole city. December arrived with a kind of magic that felt almost theatrical: cold air that bit your cheeks, streets dusted in snow, and a sky that always looked as if it were waiting to snow again. 

And the christmas market…I remember you said they were your favourite ! 

Yes, Every year, I’d wander through rows of glowing stalls, my breath turning into soft clouds as I ate maroni — chestnuts grilled over open fire, warm enough to heat up my frozen fingers. Choirs would sing nearby, their voices rising into the icy air, and church bells would ring from a distance, echoing through the old streets. Vienna had a way of making Christmas feel like a dream you could walk through.But the real heart of Christmas was our home. 

On Christmas Day, the fireplace would be lit, crackling softly as everyone gathered inside, bringing with them the smell of cold air and wool coats. Lunch was never extravagant — our cook was Javanese and had no idea how to make turkey, and in those days most restaurants were closed on Christmas Day. But somehow it never mattered. The food wasn’t the centrepiece; family was. 

We’d open presents, pass around cups of hot chocolate, and tuck ourselves into the couches like a pile of blankets and laughter. My brother would play the piano — sometimes classical pieces, sometimes just whatever melody drifted into his fingers — and the whole house would fill with music. Close friends would drop by, adding their voices to the warmth, and for a few hours, time seemed to slow down.And when the evening settled in, Christmas didn’t end — it transformed. 

We would all stay up until late midnight, huddled together in the dim glow of the living room, watching black-andwhite Christmas classics on television. Films like “It’s a Wonderful Life,” “Miracle on 34th Street,” “The Bishop’s Wife,” and “Holiday Inn” became part of our quiet family tradition. Their gentle stories, soft lighting, and oldfashioned charm wrapped the night in the same warmth as our blankets.And even now, whenever I think of Christmas, I think of that fireplace in Vienna, the smell of roasted chestnuts on my gloves, the sound of my brother’s piano, and those timeless movies flickering into the early hours of the night. 

Any cherished family tradition you had during the holiday season?  

One of the most cherished traditions in our family during the holiday season wasn’t tied to elaborate rituals or perfectly planned meals — it was the simple, steady fact that we were deeply close-knit. Christmas was the season when those ties felt even stronger, like a warm thread woven through every room of the house. My father loved music — passionately, wholeheartedly — even though he never played an instrument. He had this beautiful way of singing: not professionally, not perfectly, but with so much joy that it made the entire house feel alive. Because of him, Christmas was always something I looked forward to with a child’s full heart. When he sang, it felt like the season officially began. No Michael Bubble or Ariana Grande. We listened to Perry Cuomo, Andy Williams, Tony Benett and the likes. Our huge garden played its part too.In those days, Vienna always had a white Christmas, the sort that looked like it was crafted just for storybooks. I still remember standing by the window, watching our garden disappear under thick layers of snow. Trees stood like white sculptures, the world softened into silence, and everything felt like a fairy tale — one you could step into simply by opening the door. 

And opening presents, I assume? 

Yes! As a little girl, it was the moment my heart raced the fastest — sitting by the glowing tree, the whole room warm from the fireplace, my family around me, all of us wrapped in happiness and anticipation. I was blessed with beautiful gifts, the kind that left an imprint on childhood: toys, books, treasures I held onto for years. But now, looking back, I realise the real treasure was the feeling — the love that filled the room, the togetherness that wrapped itself around us more tightly than any ribbon. That tradition — the music, the snow, the closeness, the magic — is something I still carry with me. Christmas wasn’t about extravagance. It was about being together, singing together, laughing together. It was about belonging. And that, more than anything, made it unforgettable. And yes … talking about this brought little tears in my eyes .. I miss my childhood  

You know I love decorating .Are they special decoration or Christmas ornament that held most meaning for you?  

Out of all the Christmas decorations we brought out each year, the ones that stayed with me the most were the star and the angel at the very peak of our Christmas tree. They were the crown of the whole season — the final touch, the quiet symbol that Christmas had truly arrived.I don’t remember when we first started using them, or who originally placed them there, but somehow their presence became the anchor of my childhood Christmases. Even now, when I close my eyes, I can still see them: the soft glow of the lights reflecting on the star, the delicate wings of the angel slightly worn from years of careful hands placing her on top. There was something so comforting about that ritual. 

Every year, after the tree was fluffed and decorated, after the ornaments found their places, after the lights were tested and retested, that moment of lifting the angel or star to the peak felt almost ceremonial. As a little girl, I would watch with a kind of quiet awe, as if the whole tree finally came alive in that singular moment. And the funny thing is — I think I still have parts of them with me even today. Pieces of the star, or a bit of the angel’s old wing, tucked somewhere in my things. I didn’t keep them intentionally; they just stayed with me, like relics that carried the weight of all those magical Christmas mornings. Their presence now feels like a breadcrumb trail back to Vienna.Those decorations weren’t fancy or extravagant.But they held meaning — the kind that lasts.And maybe that’s why the memory of them still shines brightest in my mind. 

What was your most memorable Christmas gift your received? 

An antique, first edition of Alice in Wonderland book by Lewis Carrol. I still have it ! 

How do you celebrate Christmas now? Have you continued old traditions or created new ones with your own family? 

These days, Christmas looks different from the snowy Vienna winters of my childhood — but the heart of it remains the same. Now, we celebrate in our apartment, more intimate, more intentional, mostly just our children and a few of their close friends. Our space isn’t large, so we keep the gathering small, and in a way, that makes everything feel even more special — like love concentrated rather than spread thin.We’ve built our own traditions over the years, woven gently together with old memories. Because my husband grew up in England, our Christmas table has taken on a very English personality. Every year, without fail, we cook a full traditional English roast turkey dinner, complete with the festive parade of condiments that make the meal feel whole:Fresh cream corn with butter, Pomme purée enriched with truffle, Brussels sprouts glazed with butter and maple, Yorkshire puddings — golden, puffy, and irresistible and Christmas pudding to close the night with a classic, old-world sweetness. 

The kitchen becomes a busy, happy place — full of heat, laughter, and the familiar rhythm of everyone helping in their own way. There’s music playing (another echo from my father), the scent of turkey drifting through the apartment, and a kind of joyful chaos that makes the day feel alive. We may no longer have a huge snow-covered garden, or Vienna’s white Christmas outside our window, but we’ve created a warmth of our own. A home full of food, noise, and people we love — a modern reflection of the closeknit gatherings of my childhood.In a way, we’ve continued the most important tradition of all: togetherness. Just like when I was little, Christmas is still a day I look forward to — not because of the grandeur, but because of the love that fills the room. 

Tell me what value or lesson about the meaning of Christmas do you most want to pass on to the younger generation in your family? 

If there is one value I hope the younger generation in my family carries with them, it is the understanding that family is everything. Christmas, to me, has always been a reminder of that truth. Not the presents, not the decorations, not the grand meals — but the people who sit around the table, who share the laughter, who stay when the world outside becomes difficult. I want my children — and one day, their children — to grow up knowing the importance of supporting one another. Life can be unpredictable, and challenges will come from directions we don’t expect. I’ve seen families torn apart because of wealth, pride, jealousy, or misunderstanding. It breaks something sacred when that happens. So the lesson I want them to hold close is simple but profound: Protect your family. Cherish one another. Stand together. 

If they grow up valuing gratitude over greed, connection over comparison, and loyalty over ego, then they will have understood the true meaning of Christmas. Because at the heart of Christmas is not perfection, but presence.Not gifts, but togetherness.Not abundance, but gratitude. 

And that is the legacy I hope to leave them — a family that stays close, stays kind, and stays whole. 

Given the often-hectic pace of modern life, how do you and your family prioritize and create meaningful moments together during the Christmas season? Also, where will you be celebrating the holidays this year? 

When it comes to the Christmas season, I’ve learned that “quality time” isn’t something that just appears — it’s something I choose, protect, and prioritise with intention. For me, Christmas is the one time of the year when I deliberately slow down. I clear my schedule, I stop saying yes to unnecessary commitments, and I create space for the people who matter most.Quality time in our family is simple: It means being present. Cooking together in the kitchen, lingering over meals, laughing at the same stories we’ve told a hundred times, and just enjoying each other without rushing. It means cozy afternoons where everyone is still in pyjamas, and evenings filled with music, candles, and the comfort of being under one roof. And as for where Christmas will be this year — home. 

We’ve tried celebrating abroad before, chasing cold weather or that “European Christmas feeling.” But in the end, nothing compares to Christmas at home. There is a certain warmth having Christmas at home. There is a certain peace, a certain familiarity that no hotel or winter destination can replace. Home is where the memories are, where traditions live, and where the heart settles most comfortably. So this year, just like the years before and hopefully the years to come, Christmas will be spent exactly where it feels right — at home, with family, wrapped in gratitude and togetherness. 

Now let’s talk about our favourite subject..Food! or christmas feast. Tell me one ‘must have’ dish 

Turkey ! … It’s a secret recipe, mais bien sur ! But I tell you, it’s all made with loads of love and butter ! And oh … I brine my turkey overnight! It took me 3 years ,through many research and recipe development, trials and errors until I found the perfect formula to make it a winner. My husband is very particular about his food, always wanting the best. It took me a while to get used to his English palate, but once I mastered it, it’s as easy as abc.  

What is the key ingredient? Is  it a secret? 

Butter ! A lot of people are afraid of butter! I’d say Xmas is a reason and season to be festive. Besides, butter is natural and a lot healthier than margarine (I kid you not) and the trick is for every dish, don’t rush it ! Beyond taste, what transforms a Christmas recipe into a treasured tradition? Is it the story, the people, or the ritual itself? 

In my opinion, a Christmas dish becomes more than just tasty food when it’s made with love and compassion. You can follow the same recipe every year, use the finest ingredients, perfect every technique — but without heart, it remains just a dish. What transforms it into a tradition is the intention behind it. It’s the care you put into preparing it. It’s the tenderness of wanting to feed the people you love. It’s the quiet joy of creating something that brings comfort, warmth, and togetherness. 

A meaningful Christmas dish carries emotion: the laughter in the kitchen, the memories stirred into the pot, the stories shared while chopping, the familiar aroma that signals “home.” It’s love made tangible — something you can taste, smell, and hold. 

Compassion turns cooking into giving. Love turns food into legacy. And that is what turns a simple recipe into a cherished Christmas tradition.

Merry Christmas,Arimbi..thank you for sharing your memories with us and here is the picture of us , highschool friends get together in 2025..Until our next year catch up