The New Year’s holidays are approaching—the city streets, store windows, and people’s homes are being decorated with Christmas trees and ornaments. Just as they did over 100 years ago, Kharkiv’s media are filled with all kinds of advertisements urging people to ring in the New Year at one restaurant or hotel or another… How did our ancestors celebrate it?
Those who can afford it can celebrate the holiday at the “Grand Hotel” on December 31, starting at 10 p.m. Dinner there costs 2 rubles per person, but the Penza Regiment Orchestra will be performing, and the menu is extremely varied and exquisite.
At the corner of Universytets’ka and Rybnaya Streets, at the “Marseille” Hotel, the celebration is a little cheaper—just 1 ruble 50 kopecks per person. The orchestra is playing Viennese music, by the way.
Those who aren’t interested in the cuisine or the orchestra, but simply want to have some fun, can ring in the New Year in the halls of the Nobility Assembly—where a dance party and an “allegri” lottery are being held. Or you can attend a masquerade ball at the Commercial Club.
Stores, just like now, are all vying to advertise their discounts and sales. Some of them do mention, however, that they won’t be open on January 1. And, of course, what holiday would be complete without champagne on the table?
Quotes from well-known Slobozhan politicians over the past year are also published in special holiday editions.
In the realm of human relations, improvements do not occur like spontaneous changes: the seasons in nature follow a regular cycle, independent of human will; on the contrary, the free initiative of the creative individual and society’s self-awareness determine the vicissitudes of its fate.
Well, what would New Year’s be without a Christmas tree? True, back then it was primarily a symbol of Christmas, not New Year’s. However, that fact does not diminish the value of the memories various people have of it. For example, Prince Alexander Dmitrievich Golitsyn (1874–1957), who came from an extremely wealthy family in the Kharkiv Governorate, writes the following on this subject in his memoirs:
…Strange as it may seem, celebrating Christmas left a lesser impression on me than celebrating Easter…
Of course, the traditional Christmas tree has always been a part of this holiday for us, and when I was a child, back when we lived in the village year-round, thanks to the enormous size of the rooms in our palace in Dolzhik and the generosity of our grandfather, Count Sivers, our Christmas tree was always enormous and lavishly decorated with all sorts of ornaments and sweets.
But as we grew older, our interest in the tree waned, only to be rekindled in adulthood—this time out of the joy of bringing pleasure to our own children…
Memories from 1893 of the Christmas tree belonging to Khrystyna Danylivna Alchevska, a well-known resident of Kharkiv who was not as wealthy as the prince, are quite different but far more interesting:
I remember the Christmas trees from years past at our Sunday school. They were small pine trees planted in a little tub, gilded like nuts, with paper chains, cheap flower garlands from the market, cheap shiny ornaments, and candies wrapped in gold foil. In a cramped room, 50 to 60 children, teenagers, and adults would gather around such a tree; they sang songs, rejoiced in the holiday, and, cheerful and happy, went home with paper bags containing a few kopecks’ worth of treats. These were simple Christmas trees, and my own circumstances were simple and humble; but I was young, cheerful, and kind, and I loved this tradition just as passionately as I do now, and that simple Christmas tree was surrounded, for me, by a whole aura of poetry. One need only glance at my old diaries to see the naive fervor with which I described that pine tree, that little tub gilded with tinsel, and my state of mind, full of delight and tenderness… But as my financial well-being grew, so did the grandeur of my Christmas trees, reaching their apotheosis this year. In a vast hall with stucco moldings adorning the walls, by gaslight on a luxurious carpeted stage, stood a huge, beautiful fir tree in delicate hues reminiscent of spring in nature, adorned with sparkling, beautiful flowers, elegant and varied ornaments, which arrive in our country from abroad in such abundance every year…
So, as we can see, quite a few holiday traditions remain unchanged despite the passage of time. However, New Year’s and Christmas are, above all, a time for warm and heartwarming stories that touch the soul. One of them made such a lasting impression on Khrystyna Alchevska that she recorded it in her memoirs, and it can easily be called a “Christmas story.”
January 1, 1885.
An elderly gentleman I knew recently stopped by to see me. He wasn’t a teacher, but he had long been familiar with the school and took an interest in it as a local community leader. It was New Year’s Day. While he was sitting with me, I was told that a former student of Klimov’s school wished to see me. I remembered very well the face, the last name, and the character of this former student, even though I had lost sight of her for several years. I remembered that she was the daughter of the State Bank’s janitor—an unattractive but likable and intelligent girl, very diligent in her schoolwork—but I didn’t know what had become of her afterward, I didn’t know, although she did tell me sometime later about her intention to enroll in a paramedic training program.
“Go ahead,” I said, and quickly headed off to the meeting.
Standing before me was a young woman, very neatly dressed, with a pale, gaunt face that bore the marks of either hard labor or deep thought.
“Don’t be surprised, Khrystyna Danylivna, that I’ve come to see you on such a solemn day,” she said with feeling, “I won’t take up much of your time; I haven’t come to ask for anything, as others do when they visit you; I simply felt an indescribable urge to tell you on this very special day that I, a former student at your school, have completed a paramedic training program, have completed my internship, married a decent man, have a little daughter, and am quite happy. However, I do have one request: please give me your business card. Sometimes I find myself talking about the school and about you, and I’d so love to be able to show you—even if only on a business card.
I was very touched by this heartfelt speech, gave Klimova my business card, and a few minutes later she left…
You can feel however you like about New Year’s celebrations and the Christmas tree. But I think that as long as they’re rooted in “the joy of bringing pleasure to children,” these holidays are bound to exist even 1,000 years from now.
See you next year! May we all have peace and warmth.
