Hysteria Season is here

To my great horror, the hysteria season has already started. And that's why some of you might find this newsletter tasteless, if not directly offensive. It just reflects the times and the mood.

Globally, in the Western countries and colonised parts of the world, the paedophile camouflaged in red is on the run again. As a warning, every radio station has started to play songs where jingle bells are so loud that it hurts the ears. Every YouTube has ads that encourage you to close your eyes to the abuse, reality and real needs of your loved ones (if you are lucky enough to have some) and buy more comfort goodies to keep your conscience clean.

It is better to buy gifts than gift love. Or so it seems.

The origins of it all

The origin of Father Christmas is not in the alarmingly red capes-wearing saintly child molester but in ancient Finland. Up north in Finland is Korvatunturi mountain in Lapland. There is the magical abode of the grey-bearded, strict and to some extent scary Father Christmas, Joulupukki in Finnish.

Joulupukki is the one who comes to the house asking, 'Are there any nice children?' He does not, and I emphasise that he does not come in the night through the chimney. That is a Freudian addition to the tradition to justify any possible nightly penetration so prevalent in the British boarding school tradition and Catholic orphanages.

So, now you know that initially, it is not a fat man squeezing in through tight places – and now it is your imagination running at high RPM and not mine – you can ask what it is then for. Who is this dude, and why is such a hullabaloo around him?

The answer is in his question, "Are there any nice children in here?" You know, in the good old days, it was expected that children behave well and have some manners – not like today's adults who lack both of these qualities. The whole year, children were made to believe that Father Christmas has spies, little pixies, that could see and hear any mischievous acts and record and report them to a big book. Only nice kids – not the naughty ones – get some presents Joulupukki carries with him in a huge sack and delivers to the kids who say yes.

The MOU

So, it is a concept of tough love that originally set the wheels of Father Christmas' factory spinning. But then came Coca-Cola and made an MOU with the Pope according to the annals of Santa Claus, alias Saint Nicholas, a Christian bishop who lived in the 4th century in modern-day Turkey. That's the document – receipt, as they call it – that the Coca-Cola Company keeps in its secret vault. See the illustration at the top.

Because Nicholas had a sweet tooth and believed in reincarnation, he foresaw an era when diabetes was the birthright of those who yearned for a sweet life and wealth but had to swallow the coke and get only diabetes and redundancies. He also saw that there were fit-as-fiddle snake oil sellers who let the red-caped monster poison the minds of the innocent by flying high above the understanding of ordinary people.

Nicholas saw sales charts going through the roof and flying reindeer taking these paedophiles wherever they wanted. Because in his days there were no aeroplanes, he saw the things as flying reindeer. But he was right. It was a global market opportunity. And so was born the mistake of the Santa's reindeer, red cape, ho-ho-ho's, and all.

Back to Finland and the real Joulupukki.

As a child, the Christmas presents felt like I earned them. They were expressions of love – but more importantly, rewards for being kind or at least trying your best. They were often practical things, like new trousers or socks.

And boy, we didn't like those soft parcels because the exciting things were wrapped in a box and opening it would reveal a toy or a book. Soft ones were made with love, and wealthy relatives with disposable money bought the hard ones.

And the miracle of Christmas came alive when it was -20C, and you slid your tiny hands into the soft mittens to keep your fingers warm. And I was wondering how Joulupukki knew how to knit exactly similar mittens and as well as my mother. And it was the same with the socks. The expensive toys were forgotten in a week, but those soft ones lasted forever, warming first my hands and now my soul decades after my childhood was gone.

Still warming my feet

Writing this newsletter started when I put nice woollen socks on my feet because it was rainy and chilly in the morning. While sitting in my thinking chair to browse my iPad for ideas for the newsletter, I realised that my late mother made the socks I had.

She sent these socks to me just a year before she passed away. I still have the note she wrote inside the parcel. She was apologetic because her hands were not as skilled at knitting beautiful patterns as she wanted to and could have done before. Her rheumatism took a toll, but it didn't stop her love. And my feet are warm, and my soul is full of gratitude, and I miss her so much.

I have a pile of socks from my mother, but I don't have any of the toys I got from my wealthy relatives. And that's the difference.

Santa may bring some presents, but the gift of love belongs to mothers and Joulupukki, a father in disguise, who delivers it. We all knew it and could sing to this Joulupukki without fear because we knew his gentle eyes – just like father's.

So, it is time to turn off the ads, not listen to the radio for a couple of months, and think about what you can knit to give – and fit to live.

Ngā Mihi

Jussi

The Book of the Week: The Christmas Pig

If there is one book you want to buy for Christmas, it is J.K. Rowling's The Christmas Pig.

It is a tale of a young boy named Jack. Jack comes from a broken family and faces a heartrending situation when his beloved stuffed toy, Dur Pig, also known as DP, is lost. This loss occurs after his stepsister throws it out of the car onto the motorway during a disagreement.

On Christmas Eve, a night portrayed as magical in the story, where toys can come alive, and miracles are possible, Jack wakes to find that all the things in his room, including the new toy given to him by his parents, the Christmas Pig, have come to life. 

The Christmas Pig offers to take Jack on a daring adventure to the Land of the Lost to retrieve Dur Pig. Despite the risks and sadness over losing Dur Pig, Jack's courage leads him to accept this offer.

During their quest in the Land of the Lost, Jack and the Christmas Pig encounter various challenges and dangers, including being pursued by a menacing entity known as the Loser, who has a penchant for consuming "Things," as well as his minions. The narrative unfolds as a holiday fantasy, filled with moments that test Jack's bravery and ultimately lead him to understand the true essence of friendship.

It is a heartwarming page-turner, and you can get it from Apple Books or Amazon.

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