DEC. 18, 1964
Netherlands make memories, recall the past
In Holland, as Carla has probably already said, Santa Claus day isn't celebrated with Christmas. No, it's Dec. 5th that "Sinter Klaas" rides over the land dropping presents into waiting shoes below. Dec. 5th that redcapped bishop spirits his way into the hearts of more than 11 million Netherlanders giving an undefinable feeling of warmth.
Of course, there wasn't always a 'Sinter Klaas." The original Sinter Klaas was the fourth century Bishop of Myra. Born of wealthy parents in Myra, a small city in Asia Minor, he dedicated his life to the church and gave all his inheritance to the poor and needy.
Because of his generosity the world soon came to know him as the protector of these people, then as the protector of the children, and the travelers, and purchasers and sailors, and eventually as the Saint Nicholas. He died Dec. 6th, 342 A.D.
As Christianity spread, the Saint's legend spread with it, but unlike Christianity which maintained its factual basis, the legend of Saint Nicholas, which to begin with was almost a fairy-tale, soon collected pieces of folklore from the whole of western Europe. Finally Sinter Klaas evolved.
This year Sinter Klaas arrived in Amsterdam on Nov. 14th. For those three weeks before Dec. 5th, Sinter Klaas toured Holland day and night with all his Negro helpers checking up on all the Dutch boys and girls.
Incidentlly, it is ironical that these Black Peters who dress in such gaily colored costumes and who play so many practical jokes, are themselves the judges of the Dutch children. They listen through the chimneys and when they hear a naughty voice, they snatch that little child in their sacks and go merrily on their way. It is rumored that these naughty children go to Spain with the Black Peters and then themselves turn into Peters under the bright Spanish sun.
Eventually all the naughty children are gone and Sinter Klaas Day comes. At 8 p.m. on the eve of Dec. 6th, people are on the streets, everywhere running up to houses, laying presents before the doors, ringing doorbells and running off again. Inside the houses the people are reading the poetry that their special Saint left them, singing, opening presents, laughing and having the most wonderful time of their lives.
Now, may you, the readers, also have a wonderful Christmas holiday. Sincerely, have a Merry Christmas.