Old Christmas in the Mountains: A Tale o’ Tradition
Let me tell ye a story ‘bout a custom as old as them Appalachian hills, called “Old Christmas.” Back in the day, folks in these parts didn’t mark Christmas on December 25 like most do now. Naw, they held their big doings on January 6, a day they called “Old Christmas.” It’s a tale rooted deep in the land, brought over by the Scots-Irish and held close by mountain folks who prized their ways and weren’t much for changin’ with the times.
A Calendar Shift Stirrin’ the Pot
Now, this all started in 1752 when the British Parliament went and fiddled with the calendar. They swapped out the old Julian calendar, what had been around since Julius Caesar’s time, for the newfangled Gregorian calendar. That Julian calendar had gotten itself outta whack with the seasons, bein’ 11 days behind. So, when they made the switch, September 2 up and became September 14 overnight. That set a few folks grumblin’, as government meddlin’ tends to do.
By the 1800s, the Julian calendar kept driftin’ further behind, and Christmas under that old way o’ reckonin’ landed square on January 6. Coincidentally, that’s the Feast o’ Epiphany, when the Wise Men are said to’ve reached baby Jesus. Mountain folks, bein’ either too far out to hear about the change or just plain stubborn, stuck to celebratin’ “Old Christmas” on January 6. And there it stayed, especially in these hills, where old ways die hard.
How Mountain Folks Marked the Day
“Old Christmas” wasn’t just another day on the calendar—it was a time of visitin’, singin’, and shootin’ guns into the air to chase off spirits that had no business hangin’ round. Folks called it “serenadin’” when they went from house to house, tellin’ stories, dancin’, and enjoyin’ a nip o’ somethin’ warm by the stove. Bonfires lit up the cold nights, and sometimes, folks swore the elder bushes bloomed or that animals spoke at the stroke of midnight on Old Christmas Eve.
On the day itself, January 6, most folks treated it like a Sunday. They didn’t work much, instead gatherin’ for church and spendin’ time with kin. The day was simple and solemn, with Bible readin’, quiet meals, and stockings stuffed with nuts and dried fruit. Some kept a cedar tree in the house, trimmed with homemade paper decorations, yarn dolls, and maybe a cookie or two if there was a little extra flour to spare.
A Feast of Friendship
Food was the centerpiece of “Old Christmas,” as it’s always been in these mountains. Fresh game, like deer or rabbit, found its way to the table, alongside jars of preserved fruits and baked treats. Mincemeat pies, a recipe of meat and fruit brought over from the old country, were a favorite, and fruitcakes soaked in whiskey made their rounds. Decorations came from the hills: sprigs of holly, pinecones, and berries, with mistletoe fetched down from high branches.
An Irish custom also found its way into mountain homes—a candle lit in the window on Christmas Eve to welcome Mary and Joseph as they searched for shelter. This gesture of hospitality, born of faith and carried on by tradition, remains a touchstone for Southern folk even today.
A Simpler Kind o’ Christmas
There was no rushin’ to buy shiny new things back then. Gifts were handmade—dolls, knit mittens, or somethin’ useful for the hard winters ahead. The season wasn’t about what you could buy but what you could share: food, fellowship, and a heapin’ helpin’ o’ love.
In times like these, when the world feels outta sorts, there’s a certain comfort in rememberin’ how mountain folks once marked “Old Christmas.” It’s a reminder that the best gifts ain’t wrapped in ribbons but found in the quiet moments shared with family and friends. So, light a candle, raise a glass, and let the spirit of “Old Christmas” warm your heart this winter season.
May your days be merry and your new year bright!
