Every household has their own idea of what a traditional Christmas Day looks like.
For some, it’s waking at the crack of dawn to the pitter patter of tiny feet running to see if Santa has been. For others it’s a long lie before a full Scottish breakfast and mimosas.
The hours that follow could feature a long walk or a movie marathon, clad in Sunday best or matching pyjamas. All activities dance around the huge meal at the heart of the 25th.
But while most gather at their tables and pull crackers with loved ones, Margaret Ross’s home lies empty.
The first Christmas dinner
Rather than at home surrounded by wrapping paper strewn around by her grandchildren, you’ll find 78-year-old Margaret at Salvation Army’s Aberdeen Citadel. And that’s where she has spent Christmas Day for nearly 50 years.
“This year will be the 49th Christmas where we have held a Christmas Day for people who would otherwise have been alone,” said Margaret.
“I know it is 49 years because my son was 13 months when we had the first one and he’s 50 now. I have been there for most of those years.”
A few volunteers pulled together to host a Christmas dinner for people in the local area on that first year, using what resources they could.
Margaret explained: “It just came from the realisation that people would be on their own. Our building has been completely renovated in the last 10 years, but in those days it was a very old kitchen with very old facilities. We had borrowed gas cookers and people were doing washing up in baby baths.
“We just invited folk to come along, we had no idea how many would come, but we got around 100. It was good fun and lots of volunteers’ little ones were encouraged to entertain and sing.”
Turkey and all the trimmings
After nearly five decades, the day runs like a well-oiled machine. Margaret is still at its helm in terms of organisation, and Major Peter Renshaw takes charge of the cooking.
Guests are treated to a soup for starter, turkey with all the trimmings for main course, a selection of desserts and a mince pie – if they have room.
“It’s a wonderful thing on Christmas Day and we can have anything from 60 to 90 people come along,” said Margaret.
“To think that each one of them would have been on their own, it’s amazing. The local Rotary for many years have provided transport in for people before we start in the mornings and then our own congregation and friends will do the transport home.
“We have a full Christmas dinner and a carol singing session; it’s about friendship and having a fun time together. We have lovely volunteers, some of whom have helped for years and others who want to help for the first time this year.”
Generous volunteers
The volunteers are so keen to help in fact, that Margaret says they have had too many in previous years.
“Last year we told everyone to come, but we found we were overloaded, and if people are giving their time, we don’t want them to feel redundant,” she explained.
“I encourage people to sit and chat, but I know people want to know they have a job to do.
“I admire everyone who comes, and as to why they do, I hope it’s because their heart has been touched by Christmas spirit. Nobody goes away wishing they hadn’t done it. People thank us for allowing them to do it, which is very humbling.”
‘We can’t change folks’ lives, but we can walk a bit of the distance with them’
The idea of spending Christmas Day volunteering rather than at home with family isn’t something everyone would feel excited about. But Margaret said the atmosphere at Aberdeen Citadel on December 25 is a joyous one.
Part of that is due to faces that have grown to be familiar through the years: “The people who come every year remember us and we remember them, even so far as knowing if someone will need a specific kind of car to get in and out of. We have built up lovely relationships.
“We just try to have a happy atmosphere like you would if you were home with your own family.
“We are open to anybody – it has nothing to do with age, social status or finance. One of my maxims is that we can’t change folks’ lives, but we can walk a bit of the distance with them.”
And after ensuring others have enjoyed their Christmas dinner, Margaret still gets to tuck into her own.
“We ask volunteers to come for 11.30am then they are away home by 3pm, which gives a great day to our guests, but they are only giving up a chunk of their own day,” said Margaret.
“I go home to one of my daughters’ houses and yes I’ve missed the prawn cocktail, but I can live without it.
“By the end of the day, my heart is full and my feet are sore.”
Conversation