Friday 25 December 2015

First Kiss on Christmas Eve

In Germany in the 1950s, WWII was still very much present in people's minds, even though they mostly avoided the subject and rarely talked about it. At school, history lessons stopped at a safe distance from the years that lead to Hitler's rise, and everyone was supposed to look forward instead of back.
But of course, the strong presence of the Allied Forces all over the country meant that nobody forgot the events of the past two decades. Germany was divided between the Allies, with the south falling to the Americans, the west to the French, east to the Russians and north to the British.

The true story I am about to tell you took place in the late 1950s in south Germany. The girl who told me of her very first kiss on Christmas Eve is my Mum, and I think it is rather brave of her to share what is a very private memory.


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Just like everywhere else across the south of Germany at that time, many American GIs were stationed in the area of the small town where my grandmother lived. I loved going to my grandmother's all year; we got along very well and she left me the space and time I needed for myself, to sit underneath a tree in the park across the street from her house, reading books that were considered a bit too grown-up for me, or just dreaming.

The year I was 13, around Christmas time the town council sent out an appeal to all citizens to invite an American soldier into their homes for Christmas. All those young men were far away from home, often for the first time in their lives, and would be so grateful for a warm welcome in the Christian spirit and the chance to celebrate a proper German Christmas with their hosts.

My own mother would have never invited a complete stranger like that, but my grandmother was different: She didn't hesitate to put her name on the list, and a young GI named Jim was assigned to be her guest on Christmas Eve. My grandmother didn't speak English, nor did anyone else she knew. But, wait a minute - there was someone who spoke English: her granddaughter! I had been learning English at school for a few years, and that was considered enough to qualify for my being the interpreter that evening.


I found the idea of meeting a complete stranger - "exotic", too, since he wasn't German - rather exciting. Of course my mother couldn't say no, and so I arrived at grandmother's house not at all sure what to expect.
When I first saw Jim, his smile was warm and he had that all-American, totally clean-scrubbed boyish charm. In his very early twenties, he wasn't that much older than myself, but we came from different worlds and had lead completely different lives, so the gap seemed much bigger: To me, he was a man, while I was a mere teenage girl who'd had no experience whatsoever with boys (apart from what I knew through my older brother and his friends).

My grandmother celebrated Christmas Eve the traditional way: the real candles on the tree were lit, some Christmas songs were sung, the meal was served, and gifts were exchanged afterwards. Conversation flowed freely, and I did my best to translate for Jim, who turned out to be an exceptionally polite and well-educated young man. 

To offer her American guest a small reminder of home, my grandmother turned the radio to AFN. Some Christmas songs were played, with "White Christmas" featuring several times in the course of the evening.


It really was a white Christmas, too, and was still snowing by the time I had to leave in order to get the train back home. Jim had to go back to the barracks, too, and offered to walk with me so that I did not have to be out in the dark on my own.
There was snow on the ground everywhere, and the silver moonlight and the street lights made it glitter like millions of diamonds. 
We arrived at the crossing where our paths would separate; the way to the train station was to the left and the road to the barracks was to the right.

We said good-bye - and it was then that Jim took me in his arms and gave me my first proper kiss. It was a very tender, soft and warm kiss, full on the lips but nothing a 13-year-old couldn't cope with.
Nobody saw us, and when the kiss came to an end, we went our seperate ways as if nothing had happened.

But of course, a lot had happened - I wasn't the unkissed little girl anymore, I was a young lady who knew what a proper kiss is like! I was floating, not walking, all the way to the train, and kept my secret for a very long time.

We didn't stay in touch after Christmas; I never saw Jim again and don't know what became of him. Only a few years later, I met and fell in love with a young man from my town. He became my husband and the father of my daughters, and I wouldn't want my life to have turned out any other way.
But that Christmas Eve I'll never forget, just as I'll always remember that first kiss whenever "White Christmas" is played anywhere.


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As soon as my Mum told me this very romantic Christmas story, I knew I wanted to share it with you. At first, she hesitated, then thought about posting it without revealing the identity of the girl. But in the end my Mum decided that, although very personal, this is nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed about, but a sweet story worth being told.
"Jim" was most likely not the real name of the young GI, but that does not matter. What matters is that he was a kind, good man, not abusing the hospitality extended to him that evening, and that he created a fond memory for someone on Christmas Eve.

26 comments:

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    1. It is, isn't it! And the best about it is that it is true.

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  2. A lovely story and I am grateful to your mother for sharing it....How wonderful her grandmother must have been to share Christmas with a stranger so far from home....

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    1. My great-grandmother died when I was 5 or 6 years old, and I don't remember her very well. But from what I know about her, she was quite an extraordinary lady.

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  3. What a wonderful story for Christmas! Do thank your mom for allowing you to share it.

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    1. She will read your comment here, Jennifer :-)

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  4. Have a blessed and beautiful Christmas!

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  5. I love the true story and a little insight into your family too. My nan used to tell me about stories from WW11, but i was to little to understand, or listen, but that i am older i wish i had listen a lot more. Sadly she has passed away about seven years ago now. She made it to her 100th birthday.

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    1. That's a feat! We often talk about the past in my family. For instance, on Christmas Eve, we got out an old album with pictures ranging from the 1930s to the 1950s. It was interesting to see how there always seemed to be cats in the family!

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    2. That's why I always tell my daughters to ask and ask about the past. You can read my thoughts over this here
      http://librarianwithsecrets.blogspot.de/2014/02/guest-post-by-my-mum-good-advice_12.html
      100 years is a very good age!

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  6. How sweet! what a romantic story to look back on! sounds like a page from a book. I love listening to the past. i guess thats why i love my oldies (elders - insider) Merry Christmas Meike and Meikes mum - I do hope you enjoyed

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    1. We did enjoy our Christmas Eve family gathering, and also meeting today for brunch.

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  7. This is a lovely story and also shows the close relationship you have with your mum. Your mum is right; we should keep asking questions of our elderly relatives as this is our only real connection to the past. Thank you for sharing.

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    1. Glad you liked it, Maggie. Yes, my sister and I are lucky to have such a good relationship with our parents. My Dad doesn't feature as much on my blog as my Mum, but he's just as important for us.

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  8. Thanks to you both for sharing this sweet story. It kind of played out like a movie in my head while reading it (music soundtrack and all...) ♥

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    1. I "saw" the movie, too, when I wrote the story down after my Mum had told me about this memorable Christmas Eve of long ago :-)

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  9. You must know how much I love this story! I will never hear "White Christmas" again without thinking of your Mum's first kiss in the glittering snow. Please thank your mother for sharing this memory with us!
    And it makes it even more special for me since my Dad was one of those Americans in Germany, although he was there earlier, just after the war in 1945. I REALLY do need to write that post about him that I promised to write!
    Once again, I loved reading this. Thank your Mum for letting you share it with us!!

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    1. My Mum will no doubt read your comment, Kay, and be pleased her special Christmas story was so well received!
      When your Dad was in Germany, my Mum was only one year old... :-)

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  10. It is heart-warming that so soon after a bitter war there could be such kindness and love. I wonder if Jim held that memory through the years. I bet that he did.

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  11. What a beautiful story Meike's Mum. I wish that there were a few more true and beautiful stories around at the moment. Oddly it made me smile and be happy but with a tiny tinge of sadness: I cannot remember my first proper kiss.

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    1. I'm glad of the response to this story! When I first heard it from my Mum, I knew I wanted to share it, but I would have understood if she would not have liked the idea of people reading something so personal.

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  12. I am very astonished about the echo my little story caused! I didn't expect this.
    Thank you all for your kind comments.

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  13. It is a beautiful story. Like Kay, I will think of this each time I hear White Christmas too.

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    1. Thanks for popping over from Kay's blog, Tracey!

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