We're decorating the Christmas tree: “How could we know we were missing something when we were not aware of its existence in the first place?” my mom tells me. I am curious about her memories of Christmas, 50 years ago when she was a child. Fifty years ago when socialism was just beginning to flourish and Christmas traditions were starting to lose their colour in Bulgaria’s memory.

The change with the political ideology of the country intrinsically meant a change in all aspects of people’s lives. And as communism and atheism go hand in hand, religious life was hampered just as well. The belief was that people should not rely on gods for the solution of their problems – life was in their own human hands and so they had to deal with them on their own. People were not supposed to be so religiously submissive; the church could not have as much power as it had in olden times. The result, in that case – banishment of religious holidays and celebrations. The biggest of all, Christmas, the birth of Jesus Christ, was no exception.

“We could not go to church or celebrate on December 25th,” recalls my mother, “which was a restriction to my parents who remembered the traditional rituals. It did not feel like a restriction to me, though. I grew up not celebrating the day. I had no idea what fasting, Christmas trees or lighting candles in church felt like. So, in a way, I did not miss them”.

It did felt awkward, though, when on the Christmas Eve of her 23rd year, my mom went to a friends’ house and saw something weird and unconceivable: a table of seven meatless dishes, a round loaf, an icon; a family, happily celebrating the birth of their saviour, there, next to their green pine tree. “You do not know you miss something until you see it for yourself,” she sums it up wisely.

Indeed, during the time between September 9 1944 and November 10 1989, Christmas was not celebrated in Bulgaria. It was not even a national day off: just another day at the office. No Christmas decorations on the streets to add to the spirit, no carol songs, no commercialised Western movies about jolly Santa. No nothing. There was, in fact, such an industry, but with the rarity of radios and TV sets among the population, especially in the smaller villages, it could hardly reach the common people.

New Year's was another story. If December 25 was a work day, January 1 marked the beginning of a long vacation. If the week of Christmas was grey and typical, New Year's Eve was long-awaited. It was the holiday – one that adults and children alike longed for all year long. It was the day when presents were exchanged and relatives hugged. It was the day when the old red-hatted fat man slid down the chimney. Only his name was not Dyado Koleda, but Dyado Mraz (Grandpa Frost).

Once Christmas had been revived, a bit of a confusion surrounded the holiday. Parents had to buy gifts presumably brought by both old men. Children did not really understand why there were two of them (still referring to the old men). Grown-ups growing up during communism had to learn what Koleda (Christmas), boudnik (Yule log) and pitka (round loaf of bread) meant, what they were all about, why it was so important to go to church.

Unfortunately, they had already missed their chance to integrate the religious and holiday feelings into their hearts and minds, so it all felt a little unnatural. At the age of 23, my mom had her introductory bite of postni koledni surmi (fasting Christmas surmi, a traditional food of rolled cabbage leaves filled with rice) and lit a candle for the health of her family for the first time. That evening, Jesus Christ was born anew.

From the point of view of my grandma, who experienced all two versions of Christmas, though, it did feel as a change. “They stole away our beautiful holiday,” she recalls. “No more straw on the floor, no more Christmas carols.” If a person went to church, she continues, he or she was to be reported and expelled from school or fired. It was hard for my grandma to give up a Christian tradition, just like that: “It was not one thing or two: but a series of rituals, of family gatherings, of pleasant moments with your beloved ones.”

However, her memories of a white and bright Christmas did not fade away forever. When Christmas was “brought back", it all came along naturally. “I still perform all the rites I recall from my childhood. Ever since 1989, I have been commemorating Christ’s soul, as religion decrees.”

And I have no doubt about it. As I look at her kitchen, I recall my own memories of traditional fests, of round loafs, of Christmas songs; I see the cornel tree buds for this year’s bread, too. And I am happy.