From St. Nicholas to Santa Claus

Christmas was an especially big production at my parents’ house. If you drove past our family’s white stucco bungalow, you could not miss the giant inflatable Santa Claus on the front lawn. If you ventured inside you would find a festive five-foot rug featuring another Santa, a fabric Advent calendar taking up three feet on the wall, stained glass angels in the window, and more than one crèche. That my father, Gerry Bowler, is a historian specializing in the social history of Christmas explains some of the enthusiasm. When we decorated the tree, he would lovingly insist on explaining the mythic history of the “Christmas pickle” to his daughters as soon as one of us reached for the pickle-shaped ornament. Around this time of year, reporters would call to ask him why we kiss under mistletoe or about the history of coal-filled chimney stockings. This year, I joined the fray and posed him some questions about St. Nicholas over email.