I was born and raised in England, where the day after Christmas Day is Boxing Day. It is a national holiday and also my favorite day of the year.
When I went to live in America in the 1970s I was disappointed to find that Boxing Day was not a holiday and, shockingly, employers expected you to work that day.
Back then, many Americans were unfamiliar with Boxing Day, just as a lot of people in England were unfamiliar with Thanksgiving Day. In recent decades there has been a growing transatlantic awareness of the basic facts of these two days, as provided in Wikipedia (see Boxing Day and Thanksgiving Day). However, the facts cannot be expected to evoke the feelings that come from living those days, year after year.
Over the years, when Americans asked me about Boxing Day, they got my version, which I tended to universalize as "this is how Boxing Day is in England." I now realize I was giving them "what I liked about the Boxing Days that I enjoyed in England in the 1950s through the early 1970s."
So, this Boxing Day, I wanted to give a sense of how it was for me as a boy, without pretending to know if this is what it was like for other children, or what it is like in England today. I will start with the meaning of the term, as I understood it: Boxing Day comes from the tradition of rich people boxing up the Christmas leftovers and taking them to the poor people on the day after Christmas.
The story they illustrate is that of "Good King Wenceslas," immortalized in the Christmas carol of the same name. The first line of that carol is "Good King Wenceslas looked out on the feast of Stephen." (For the tune and the rest of the verse, see below.)
I don't go to the stores on Boxing Day. I don't work, if I can possibly avoid it. I just spend the day relaxing, maybe communicating with friends. There is no set agenda for Boxing day. You make it up as you go along, it's a Do-It-Yourself holiday (and not a bad day to try one of the DIY projects you've been looking forward to). This year I had a lingering cold and sore throat on Boxing Day and so I spent most of the day reading fiction and writing non-fiction, including this blog post.
The feast day of Saint Stephen is December 26, a.k.a. Boxing Day, the day on which the Saint Wenceslas miracle occurred. This involved the high-born Wenceslas and his page taking alms to the poor, in the snow. (It is a story that I have previously referenced for the strange reason noted here.)
To understand my love of Boxing Bay you need to know what my Christmas Day was like back in the 1950s and 60s. It began with going downstairs on Christmas morning to find gifts under the Christmas tree (after the age of nine it began with me trying to stop my younger brother getting up before dawn to go downstairs).
To understand my love of Boxing Bay you need to know what my Christmas Day was like back in the 1950s and 60s. It began with going downstairs on Christmas morning to find gifts under the Christmas tree (after the age of nine it began with me trying to stop my younger brother getting up before dawn to go downstairs).
After unwrapping our gifts and waking our parents--not always in that order--there would be an abbreviated period of playing with new toys, cut short by the need to tidy up the house for Christmas dinner and get ourselves ready for church.
After the Christmas morning service at church, where we would see an assortment of friends and family—and talk about the presents we had received that morning—we would embark on a series of house visits taking Christmas presents to relatives. This always included at least one great aunt and my dad's parents. (My mum's mum lived with us and usually stayed at home on Christmas morning to ease the Christmas dinner through the final stages of preparation.)
After the Christmas morning service at church, where we would see an assortment of friends and family—and talk about the presents we had received that morning—we would embark on a series of house visits taking Christmas presents to relatives. This always included at least one great aunt and my dad's parents. (My mum's mum lived with us and usually stayed at home on Christmas morning to ease the Christmas dinner through the final stages of preparation.)
After these visits, which involved a lot of good manners and sitting properly, we eventually got home to the Christmas dinner. After that, it was time to watch the Christmas programming on television. (These were often shows created for that particular Christmas, going out live; in other words: watch it now or never see it, ever, no repeats.)
And that's about where Christmas Day ended. In our house children went to bed many hours before grownups. But we didn't mind because we had been blessed with new toys. We had done our duty to family. We had been entertained.
On the other hand, Christmas day seldom provided a whole lot of time to play. So then came Boxing Day! No shops open, no need for dad to go to work. Plenty of time to play, inside with our toys, but also outside if weather permitted. If there was snow then it was time for tobogganing. If there was no snow, there might be a friendly game of rugby or football (soccer).
Of course, there were Christmas leftovers to fuel the day, and, for most families, an opportunity to relax and enjoy the spirit of the season. At least, that's how I remember it. And that's how I have tried to keep Boxing Day, despite the fact that it was not a 'standard' holiday in America, where I have lived for big chunks of my adult life.
I don't go to the stores on Boxing Day. I don't work, if I can possibly avoid it. I just spend the day relaxing, maybe communicating with friends. There is no set agenda for Boxing day. You make it up as you go along, it's a Do-It-Yourself holiday (and not a bad day to try one of the DIY projects you've been looking forward to). This year I had a lingering cold and sore throat on Boxing Day and so I spent most of the day reading fiction and writing non-fiction, including this blog post.
As you may have noticed, my celebration of Boxing Day does not follow in the footsteps of Wenceslas. I didn't take any alms to the poor. However, this year I did make time on this day to re-invest some of my micro-loan funds at Kiva. I also took some time to acknowledge my great good fortune in being able to spend this day the way I wanted to.
So there it is, I'm not looking to start a Boxing Day movement or fight the rampant commercialism of Boxing Day, depressing as that can be. I'm just saying Boxing Day is my favorite day of the year, and now you have some idea why.