The great English etymologist Owen Barfield once wrote, “Words may be made to
disgorge the past that is bottled up inside of them, as coal and wine, when we kindle or drink
them, yield up their bottled sunshine.” When we uncap the sunshine that is stored inside the
many words that relate to the Christmas season, we discover that the light that streams forth
illuminates centuries of human history and customs.

The word “Christmas” derives from the Old English “Cristes Maesse,” meaning “the
festival mass of Christ.” Christmas is a fine example of a disguised compound, a word formed
from two independent morphemes (meaning-bearing elements) that have become so closely
welded together that their individual identities have been lost.

Turns out that the word “holiday” is another disguised compound, descending from the
Old English “haligdaeg,” meaning “holy day.” With the change in pronunciation has come a
change in meaning so that holidays, such as Independence Day and Labor Day, are not
necessarily holy.

The Greek letter chi, spelled with an X, is the first letter of the word “Xristos,” which is
Greek for Christ. “Xmas,” then, is actually a Greek derivative that does not eradicate the name of
Christ from Christmas. The name of the holiday has been abbreviated as Xmas for 500 years.
Slogans like “Put the Christ back in Christmas” were coined by people who don’t know the
history of X. No offense intended then or now by the X.

Now, here comes the sun: Christmas occurs shortly after the winter solstice, when the sun
reaches its most southerly excursion relative to the celestial equator and the Northern
Hemisphere, its maximum point away from the sun. The winter solstice enfolds the longest night
of the year, and thus, the shortest day of the year, just before the days slowly fill back up with
brightness. At the time of the summer and winter solstices, the sun, before journeying back
toward the equator, appears to stand still. This phenomenon is reflected in the Latin roots of the
word: sol, meaning “sun,” and “sistere,” “to stand still.”

Among the most fascinating Christmas etymologies are those for Santa Claus and Kris
Kringle. When the Dutch came to the New World during the 17 th century, the figure of Saint
Nikolaas, their patron saint, was on the first ship. After the Dutch lost control of New
Amsterdam, Sinterklaas (a form of Saint Nikolaas) became anglicized into Santa Claus.

Kris Kringle reflects an even more drastic change from one language to another.
Immigrants from the Holy Roman Empire (now Germany, Austria, and Switzerland) settled in
Pennsylvania in the 17 th and 18 th centuries. They held the custom that the Christ Child, “the
Christ-kinkle,” brought gifts for the children on Christmas Eve. When English-speaking settlers
moved near these Pennsylvania Dutch (also known as Pennsylvania Deutsch), the Christ-kinkle
became Kris Kringle. By the 1840s, Kris Kringle had irretrievably taken on the identity of St.
Nicholas, or Santa Claus.

Of the various plants associated with the Christmas season, the poinsettia possesses the
most intriguing history etymologically. A Mexican legend tells of a penniless boy who presented
to the Christ Child a beautiful plant with scarlet leaves that resembled the Star of Bethlehem. The
Mexicans named the plant Flor de la Noche Buena, “Christmas Eve Flower.” Dr. Joel Roberts

Poinsett, the first U.S. minister to Mexico, came upon the red and green Christmas plant in
southern Mexico in 1828 and brought it to the United States, where it was named in his honor in
1836. The poinsettia has become one of the most popular of Christmas plants — and one of the
most misspelled words (pointsettia, pointsetta, poinsetta) in the English language.

Another botanical Christmas item is the pear tree. In the seasonal song “The Twelve Days
of Christmas,” have you ever wondered why the true love sends not only a partridge but also an
entire pear tree? That’s because in the early French version of the song the suitor gave only a
partridge, which in French is rendered as “une pertriz” A 1718 English version combined the
two — “a partridge, une pertriz” — which, slightly corrupted, came out sounding like “a
partridge in a pear tree.” Ever since, the partridge has proudly perched in a pear tree.

A Merry Christ Mass and Happy Holy Days to all!