Christmas Eve

That night was the birth-night. In what countries of the round world were not Christians singing carols as the sun going westward left the holy twilight of Christmas eve with blessings on every land?

Wherever a man may be on Christmas eve it is pardonable in him to give at least one hour to memory. And if there be not the broad fireside and the flashing logs in the chimney, if his far-wandering feet are hot with desert sands, and his forehead is burning with the sunshine of Sahara, he will be excused for remembering with even more distinctness the forms of old times, on which the blaze of the Christmas log shines so gloriously.

A few rods from the boat, on the sand, lying down and looking starward, I was able for awhile to forget Nubia and recall America.

Able! – I couldn’t help it – voices called to me out of distances that I did not try to fathom. Eyes looked at me, but I didn’t think to ask whether they were this side or beyond the stars. Lips kissed me-and I never dreamed of their being ghostly lips, for they were not cold-and arms enfolded me – warm embraces – and hearts were throbbing loud against mine as one and another of the beloved ones of old times and all times lay on my breast.

[...]

Christmas Dinner

We found the boat dressed by Abd-el-Atti for Christmas. She was covered with green palm branches from stem to stern, and the cabin was a bower fit for a queen. And such a dinner-table as Hajji Mohammed got up that day who shall be able to describe! There was a turkey, made drunk on brandy before he was killed, and consequently as tender as a partridge-so said the cook-and I saw the brandy administered myself, but I can’t say it was that which made him tender, though tender he was. There was a roast goose, wild and delicious; four roasted teal, and chickens in three forms. There was a pigeonpie made of macaroni, and one whole lamb, with folded arms and bent legs, and head and tail complete, every inch of him, stuffed with almonds, raisins, and rice, and done to a turn. There were innumerable dishes of kabobs and small bits of meat and game, and there was a curry of chicken that would have suited an Indian general. Then there were calves’-feet jelly and blanc-mange in moulds, and mish-mish and apple and mince and pumpkin pies, and there was a cake made of sugar and almonds, which you struck with a stick or a knife, and when you broke it, out flew a white pigeon; and this was but half the variety wherewith our indefatigable dragoman had loaded our Christmas table.

From Boat Life in Egypt and Nubia
by William C. Prime, 1857