By the time this photo was taken, by grandparents had been in this country for nearly thirty years. But one of the treasures we have (thanks to family in Northern Ireland) are copies of a few of the letters my grandmother wrote back to folks in “the old country” when she was newly arrived. Among her observations in the late 1920’s: that this country is altogether different from Ireland; that people here think the Irish fight all the time; that people here have no home life, and that they have all their food outside the home. A few years later she would write “Thank goodness Xmas is over,” and go on to describe the extravagance of American Christmases. How the trees in people’s homes touched the roof, how many toys people had brought her young son (my father), and how every single one of them was done up in fancy paper. She concludes her letter home: “Many a time I worry that the present generation will be no good for they get every luxury without working for it.” She needn’t have worried–her children and grandchildren worked hard for both the basics and the luxuries that came their way, and subsequent generations seem to be on track to so the same. (Note: My father is the one in the black and white checked shirt and my Aunt Jean is wearing the green suit. The painting in this photo now hangs in my own living room).
Christmas in America, 1956
