Christmastime in Jamaica.
When we were kids, Christmastime in Jamaica started on Christmas Eve.
My brothers, mum, and I would leave early in the morning and catch the bus to Kellits, the nearby town, to enjoy a memorable day out called Grand Market Day.
Dad would stay home listening to Christmas reggae tunes while baking sweet potato cake and making sorrel and ginger drink with strong overproof rum.
Yes, we got to try some; it was delicious.
Our day at the market was always special, and when mum gave me and my brothers pocket money for the year to buy our own Christmas gifts.
I was about 6 or 7 when I bought my first toy, a pale blue and yellow trumpet.
I loved Grand Market Day.
Mum would head off to buy the rest of the ingredients for Christmas Day dinner: stewed chicken, fish, rice and peas, plantains, breadfruit, yams, fried dumplings, callaloo, lettuce, corn, carrots, tomatoes, and sweet potatoes.
Us kids would skip around the market with glee, looking over toys we wished we could buy but being happy with our selection because we had bought them ourselves.
Spending our own little money like grown-ups.
We had to negotiate the price with the stall sellers, counting change and hoping we had enough left over to buy some sweets for the journey home.
Feeling happy as the sellers always gave us at least 10 cents back, enough for an Icy Mint.
From a very young age, we learned not to be wasteful or ask our parents for things we could not afford.
We learned to be happy with what we had, up to a point, we are still dreamers.
Of course, our parents gave us special treats, and so did relatives when they came back home from abroad and visited us up country in Saint Ann.
Our American cousins gave me my first doll one year.
She looked like me.
I named her Alexis.
I still have her.
What innocent times.
Have a wonderful holiday with family and friends.
Best wishes,
Sherry Collins
Jamaican Freedom Fighter, for the people.
