Gingerbread Christmas Antonio D'Andrea   © Copyright 2025 by Antonio D'Andrea

Photo by Raymond Petrik on Unsplash.

His story “When I was ten years old, I had the most amazing thing happen to me. It changed my life………."

Every Christmas Eve, we gathered together, the whole Fitzgerald clan. Grandma Helen, my Mom’s mother, insisted all her children spend Christmas with her. Grandma was not a woman you wanted to argue with. The clan consisted of my mom, Bridget, my Dad, Thomas and me. I’m Patrick. The other members were my uncle George, my aunt Millie, their three children, George jr., Lisa and little Timothy. Then, of course, there was my aunt Mary Ann, who was a widow and her Twins, Harold and Samantha.

Grandma lived in Canarsie, a section of Brooklyn, at that time, was still farms populated by early Dutch settlers. They allowed a few Irishmen to live among them.

My grandfather, a day laborer, had scraped together every penny he could and finally had enough to put a down payment on a piece of land. He had been working for Mr. Van Wyck, on his farm but Mr. Van Wyck was also the president of the First Dutch Bank. He liked my grandfather, knew he was a hard worker an had the bank extend him a mortgage.

They eventually built a house and had a small farm. Our family lived in Bay Ridge and it was a trip to get out to the farm. We had to take two buses and then walk about a quarter mile. On this particular Christmas Eve, it started snowing early morning and although we left our house at eight in the morning, we didn’t get to Grandmas until about eleven. Dad would meet us later. He had to work until noon. When we arrived at Grandmas, she was busy in the kitchen, already preparing food for the sumptuous feast, we would have that evening.

One of Grandmas traditions was to make gingerbread cookies that resembled her grandchildren, and give each his own cookie on Christmas Day. The cookies were quite large and each artistically designed. Cousin George was round and fat. Lisa, blond and chubby and little Timmy was little. Cousin Harold, who was the jokester among us, was depicted as a clown and Samantha, a ballerina. She had been taking lessons. Grandma made me look very stylish. I was tall and stately, wearing a top hat, red scarf and carried a cane. I sort of looked like Mr. Peanut. Grandma always said I would be an elegant gentleman when I grew up.

While Grandma and Mom worked on preparing food, I went out back and found Grandpa. We went into his old barn which was like a fairy land of toys, he had stashed away over the years. Toys that were my parents, aunts and uncles and other relatives. We retrieved one of the sleighs and he lead me to a spot with a hill. I was content and we played there until my cousins arrived. Then, we had a snowball fight.By six o’clock, my Dad and Uncle George had arrived. Aunt Mary Ann, had arrived earlier with the twins. We sat down to dinner. Grandpa told Dad to say grace and we all had a wonderful Christmas Eve dinner. The ladies cleared the table and started doing the dishes. The men, Grandpa, Dad and Uncle George went out to the barn. Dad told us children to get ready for bed, tomorrow was going to be a busy day. I knew they went out there to assemble our Christmas gifts and then put them under the tree, while we were asleep. For the sake of my cousins, I pretended I still believed in Santa. I knew they still did, but I knew better.

George jr. And his brother little Timmy were given one room, the girls Lisa and Samantha another. I was assigned to a room with cousin Harold. It’s not that I didn’t like Harold, because I did. I thought he was funny. It was just that having grown up as an only child, I was not used to sharing a room. I couldn’t fall asleep, besides this was earlier than my usual bedtime. I tossed and turned and finally decided I would sneak downstairs and take a peek under the tree to see how many gifts had my name on them. The house was dark and quiet. Evidently, the fathers had completed their mission and made all things ready for Christmas morning. 

The old house had a back stairway that lead right into the kitchen. The old stairs creaked as I tried to be as quiet as possible in the dimly lit stairwell. I came out into the kitchen. Grandma had left a night light stay on, so I was able to see that the coast was clear and I could make it into the living room to check out the gifts. I noticed that Grandma had left the six gingerbread men on a cooling tray on her kitchen table. As I walked to the door that led to the living room, I was startled by a movement on the table where the gingerbread men lay. I walked over to get a better look. I could have swore I saw something move. I starred at the cookies. They starred back.All of a sudden, Harold the clown winked! What, I must be seeing things. 

Then he sat up and said” okay, you caught me. Now what?” I jumped back. I must be still asleep and dreaming. Thats it I’m dreaming. Just then, the Patrick cookie sat up. 

“Harold, you always ruin everything.” He admonished the clown.” Alright gang, you can all relax. Harold has ruined our one night of freedom again this year.” With that they all stood up. 

George said “I’m hungry “.

“You eat to much” said his sister.

“ I want to play. Can we borrow the Christmas toys?” Asked Timmy. All the while, Harold hung his head while Samantha did pirouettes.

“ This isn’t a dream, it’s a nightmare!” I said

“No Patrick, it isn’t a nightmare.” Said my gingerbread counterpart.” You see, everyone makes gingerbread cookies for Christmas, but your Grandmothers are different. You see, as she makes each one she prays for each of us.  She pours so much love into each of us, that we get to have one night for ourselves, as a reward because tomorrow, you children will eat us and we will be no more.”

Fat George and chubby Lisa, with tears in their eyes, stood up an said “Please help us, we don’t want to die” and little Timmy started to cry.

“Oh,my” I said. “What do you want me to do?, What can I do?”

“Maybe you can hide us?” Said Harold the clown.

“Or maybe you can persuade your cousins not to eat us?” Said Samantha, as she continued to pirouette.

“ Okay, I’ll see what I can do “ I said, knowing deep down this was a lie. What could I do except pray. Whats the difference. This has to be a dream. I took a towel and carefully placed the gingerbread people in the towel and took them up to my room.

Harold was asleep and snoring peacefully. I carefully placed each one on the window sill. The snow had stopped falling and as I looked out the window, I could see a big, beautiful star high in the heavens. That must be the star of Bethlehem I thought.

I laid down, looking out the window at the star and began to pray.

“ Dear God, if you would please grant me this one request, please find a way to spare the gingerbread people. I know this is all probably a dream, but it is so real to me. So if by some miracle this is for real, please, please grant me my prayer.” As I continued to pray over and over for my new friends, I fell asleep.

“Patrick, Patrick.” I awoke with a start. My dad was calling up to me. “Patrick, wake the kids an come down here. There is something you kids have to see.” He said excitedly. 

I, jumped out of bed, put on my robe, shook Harold awake and went to wake the others. As we all started down the stairs, I remembered the gingerbread people I had left on the window sill. “Go ahead, I’ll catch up” I told my cousins and ran back up to retrieve the gingerbread people. They were gone! Of course, they were gone. It was all a dream.

I ran back down the stairs. Dad said” get over here before you miss the show.”

The family was gathered by the open door. Outside our house, a group of Carolers

Had gathered to sing Christmas Noels. As I looked out I recognized them. There was a fat one, a chubby blond girl, and a small thin boy. One who had a clowns face and one dressed as a ballerina. The spokesman for the group, a tall distinguished gentleman, who wore a red scarf and a black top hat smiled at me. They were concluding their caroling singing “ Silent Night “. Then , they all said “Merry Christmas “ 

Mr. Top Hat added “ And a very special Merry Christmas to you, Patrick and Thank you .”