and served with a cover of sugar and cinnamon. Wherever Swedes go, they
must have those two dishes on Christmas Eve. They have had them since
the days when Christmas was a pagan celebration of the winter solstice,
when dried codfish was the staple winter food, and when rice was the
rarest of imported delicacies.

Keith did not become interested until the rice appeared and the father
declared that no one could taste it until he or she had "rhymed over the
rice." Lena had to begin, and blushingly she read:

"To cook rice is a great feat, especially to get it sweet."

Whereupon everybody applauded, and the mother followed:

"Those who don't like rice are worse than little mice."

The father made them all laugh by saying:

"The rice is sweet and looks very neat, but now I want to eat."

The cutting of the cake, with its coating of sugar and its many layers
of custard ... the wine, port and sherry, poured from tall glass
decanters with silver labels hung about their necks to show which was
which ... the blushing native apples and the figs from distant sunlit
shores ... the almonds and raisins that tested best when eaten together
... the candy and the caramels ... the absence of restraint and reproof
... the freedom to indulge one's utmost appetite ... the smiles and the
pleasant words and the jokes sprung by the father ... and in the midst
of it all a pause laden with rose-coloured melancholy....