Strooiavond in Holland
A Dutch boy does not have to wait until December 25 for the great gift-day of the year. He is one of those who look for the gift-bringing saint on the eve of his own day which falls on December 6. For days beforehand the shops have been filled with toys and gaily trimmed, and on the evening of December 5 St. Nicholas is supposed by the little ones to make choice of the special treasure intended for little Dutch Jan or Martje. Indeed, it is one of the children’s treats to go out on that night to see the shops; and in the doorway of many of them stands a gorgeously clad likeness of the saint.
At home the children in turn are visited by the saint; in he walks carrying a big sackful of candies, oranges, apples, and so forth, which he scatters on the floor. Indeed, the Eve of St. Nicholas is called in HollandStrooiavond, which means “strewing evening.” This idea of a strewing evening crops up curiously often as one reads of the various customs connected with the December holidays the world over. In southern France the Provençal women strew wheat on the surface of shallow dishes of water, planting St. Barbara’s grain; in Mexico the children try to break with a long stick a bag or jug swung high above their heads, scattering the contents at last all over the floor.
In some parts of Servia there is found among the Christmas customs one which is probably the remnant of an early rite from which all of these “strewing evenings” come. Inthat country, after the Christmas fire has been started with due ceremonies, the mother of the family brings in a bundle of straw which has been made ready early in the day. All the young children arrange themselves behind her in a row. She then starts walking slowly about the hall, and all the adjoining rooms, throwing on the floor handfuls of straw, and at the same time imitating the hens sounds, “Kock ... kock ... kock;” while all the children, representing the hen’s little chickens, merrily follow shouting, “Peeyoo! ... peeyoo! ... peeyoo!” The floor well strewn with straw, and the little folk in breathless heaps upon it, the oldest man of the family throws a few walnuts in every corner of the hall. After this a large pot, or a small wooden box, is filled with wheat and placed a little higher than a man’s head in the east corner of the hall. In the middle of the wheat is fixed a tall candle of yellow wax. The father of the family then reverently lights the candle, and, folding his arms on his breast, he prays, while all who are present stand silently behind him, asking God to bless the family with health and happiness, to bless the fields with good harvests, the beehives with plenty of honey, the sheep with many lambs, the cows with rich creamy milk, and so on. When he finishes his prayer, he bows deeply before the burning candle, and all those standing behind him do the same. He then turns toward them and says, “May God hear our prayer, and may He grant us all health!” to which they answer, “God grant it. Amen!”
In Holland the very little children believe that while they are busy gathering up the saint’s goodies, or else in thenight, he hides away the presents meant for them all over the house. Before they go to bed they place their largest shoes—wooden sabots, such as you see in almost every picture of Dutch children—in the chimney place, where in the morning they find them stuffed with fruit, nuts, and sweets. There are no lie-a-beds in Holland on St. Nicholas’ morning. There is a glorious game of “seek-and-find” going on in every house where there are children. Piet takes down one of the shining copper saucepans hanging beside the chimney place and finds curled up inside it the many-petticoated doll which of course he hands over to a delighted little sister, who has somewhere discovered his box of gaily painted leaden soldiers. There are plenty of hiding holes in an old Dutch house; thick oak beams support the walls and roofs and make wide ledges upon which Rupert may find a packet containing two flat silver buttons which once belonged to his great-grandfather. He is the oldest son, beginning to be particular about his striped waistcoats and the tight fit of his blue or red coat. He will be immensely proud to wear, as every other man in the old village does, two silver buttons at the waist of his baggy trousers. In the parts of Holland where the new fashions have not spoiled the old, silver buttons are to the men what such coral necklaces as Rupert’s sister wears are to the women. These buttons are always as big as the men can afford, and sometimes are like saucers; the little boys, even the tiniest ones, are dressed exactly after the pattern of their fathers, but their two flat buttons are smaller, about as large as fifty-cent pieces, and stamped with some design, the favorite one being a ship.
When all the gifts have been hunted out (down to a pair of skates with long curved tips for a boy so little that you would think St. Nicholas must have made a mistake if you did not know that Dutch children learn to skate almost as early as you learn to walk), the children are ready for the season’s other special treat, the gingerbread cakes. Delicately spiced gingerbread is made into many fantastic shapes, but every one, young or old, receives a gingerbread doll. Figures of men are given to the women folk, and of women in ruffles and straight skirts to the men. It is interesting to see how exactly like these gingerbread figures are in outline to those in early Dutch paintings. The models from which they are patterned frequently date from the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.