By Thea Jarvis

Maria Carmela Valentino flourished a worn, black, wood-handled umbrella and remembered her son's biggest Christmas letdown.

"He was crying, crying," said Mrs. Valentino, 76. The long tapered box under the tree should have held a toy gun, but I couldn't buy him that!" she said. Too dangerous.

Years later, her disappointed little boy became a West Point graduate and career military officer, she said with pride, acknowledging the irony of the safe, if unappreciated substitution of an umbrella.

For Mrs. Valentino and others with grown families, Christmas still holds magic. Vivid memories and cherished traditions lend balance and perspective.

Do age and time grant a clearer, simpler vision of the season?

Within her close-knit Sicilian-American family, Mrs. Valentino said, Christmas disappointments were rare. On Christmas Eve the family decorated the tree and gathered for fish and pasta. After Midnight Mass for the grown-ups, her son was awakened to a house full of light and presents.

"Ah, that was a surprise!" she said, adding that today's parents must "work hard to help children understand their traditions."

Joan Wojtczak and her husband, Joe, married 45 years, have always served traditional Polish "oplatki" for Christmas. The flat, rectangular bread, decorated with a motif of the Holy Family, is a symbol of unity, a reminder of Eucharist.

When the family comes together for Christmas, "the father says a prayer of his own making, wishes his wife happiness" and gives her a piece of "oplatki," explained Mrs. Wojtczak, who learned the ritual from her husband's parents.

Bread is then offered to others in the family circle with "a hug and kiss and a wish for a happy Christmas and good New Year."

During the holidays, the Wojtczaks enjoy taking grandchildren to local churches decorated with tender nativity scenes and colorful poinsettias.

Bonnie and Jim O'Hara, married 39 years, have blended different traditions to make their Christmases work.

"He's Mr. Santa Claus," Mrs. O'Hara said of her husband. "He wants to give and give and give." For her part, memories of busy, oversized family celebrations were uncomfortable reminders that she no longer lived close to beloved relatives.

One year, the O'Haras were shopping for groceries with their 4-year-old daughter when they remembered a family up the street who "didn't have anything" -- the mother was newly widowed and unable to work, with two little boys at home.

O'Hara grabbed another grocery cart and filled it for their neighbors, later sending the food anonymously.

It was the start of a Christmas tradition. "We always tried to get a family" after that, said Mrs. O'Hara, contacting church or county organizations for names of those in need.

At home, the O'Haras placed statues of Mary and Joseph above the fireplace where their daughter moved the statues on a symbolic Advent journey, measuring distance in daily good deeds.

"They had to get to the end of the mantle by Christmas," chuckled O'Hara, adding that the last days of Advent often saw Mary and Joseph running to the finish line.

Emphasizing the holiday spirit rather than glitzy trappings was easier in years gone by, said Irish-born Jim Kelly, a widower and father of four. Now 85, he remembers buying his tree on Christmas Eve "when you could get them for 50 cents."

"We didn't make as big a deal of it as they do today," said Kelly of the holiday's feverish pace. "I look at Christmas as Jesus' birthday, not a time somebody gets a new set of skis."

"I still enjoy Christmas and the great anticipation of it," said Mrs. Wojtczak, but she has become "less anxious, more relaxed" as years have passed.

"I used to think I had to do it all. I've learned not to overdo" and to welcome cooking and decorating help from other family members. That leaves extra time to count blessings and take stock for the new year.

"Christmas should be spiritual, not just a time for gift-giving," said Mrs. Wojtczak, looking forward to a peaceful Christmas.