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Highlands Today

It Takes A (Victorian) Village

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Joyce Minor

Published: December 30, 2007

When I was a child, Christmas at our house revolved around the tree. It wasn't Christmas until the tree went up, and the holidays were not over till the tree came down.

In that respect, not much has changed; the tree is still the focal point of our holiday trimmings.

But these days it fights for attention with one other decoration that is slowly taking over the spotlight, and my living room – my Dickens Village.

What started in 1995 with just one little ceramic house, The Old Curiosity Shop, has grown into an entire Victorian town. The display now has 12 buildings, including some with moving parts. All of them are lighted and one even plays music. The village also has 10 trees, a road, a bridge, and a town square complete with mailbox, stone fences and a dozen different sets of tiny Victorian people doing everything from selling newspapers to lighting the street lamps and peeking in windows.

My village grows every year, because friends and family are continually buying new pieces for it. They know that village "stuff" is a gift I'll always love.

These days, lots of people have villages. Mine is not unusual; it just seems to mean more to me. I was an English literature major in college and my family roots are in England and Scotland, so the Dickens Village has special significance for me. I am more and more enamored with it every year.

I used to love dolls and doll houses when I was a little girl. Now, setting up my village, I'm a kid again, playing with my favorite toys. I know some people map their village setting or photograph it so they can lay it out exactly the same every year. Some people even leave it up all year; but not me.

For me, a large part of the fascination is in setting it up every year. As I carefully unpack each piece, I remember when, and from whom, I received it. Each year there are some pieces I've totally forgotten until I reopen them. Then it's like receiving the gifts all over again.

Many of the pieces in my village also bear some special significance to the giver of the gift. My son, who recently returned from a trip to London, added to my village a beautiful castle on the hill, patterned after the real Heathmoor Castle in England. My daughter, who is studying astrophysics in grad school, gave me the British Royal Observatory, complete with mini-telescope.

Several Christmases, my children have bought new houses and added them to the display when I was not home, then just waited for me to notice. What fun to come home from a tiring day at work and find a new little house, or coach, or tree, and a smiling family member waiting for me to discover it.

And, therein, is the real reason I love my village: I never purchased a single bit of it. All the pieces, and every moment of joy they have brought me, were gifts. Isn't that the real essence of Christmas?

Nothing will ever replace the evergreen tree as the quintessential symbol of Christmas. But now, for me, it also takes a village.

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