It was a Hoffner Christmas, a very special celebration that has gone on for 100 years or more.

Folks came carrying platters and pans of food, heading for the back door of the wooden farm house where 17 children spent many joyous Christmas days.

By early morning, the huge Home Comfort wood stove was covered in pots and pans and the heat had chased away the chill.

The house, quickly filled as the cooking and clatter grew in the kitchen.

There was turkey and dressing and all the usual things.

But a Hoffner Family Christmas keeps with tradition.

Pots of homemade chicken dumplings, sauerkraut and pinto beans fill the stove. Along with the ham, there’s plenty of sidemeat.

Just after the turn of the century when Clem and Dave Hoffner were struggling to raise a family, kraut, potatoes and sidemeat were the standard fare.

Dave Hoffner built a two-story house on the farm, which reached back a mile to the Yadkin River. Now the waters of High Rock Lake are much closer.

Cindy Hoffner Moss hasn’t missed a Christmas at the home place. The daughter of J.L. and Colleen Hoffner, she spent 15 years in New York, but made the trip every year.

Now a biology teacher in the Charlotte-Mecklenburg Schools, she brought a Chinese exchange student to the gathering Saturday. Yongjun Feng, called “Ben” by his friends, quickly immersed himself in the Hoffner Christmas.

“Do all Americans celebrate Christmas like this?” he asked repeatedly. Ben also had questions about sauerkraut.

His questions quickly disappeared as he was enveloped in the Hoffner Family Christmas.

He sat on the floor along with dozens of other family members from age 10 to 90, listening to the aggregation of musicians.

More and more grandchildren and great-grandchildren continued to arrive squeezing into the packed room. There was always room for a few more.

The clapping of hands and thumping on the floor kept time with the music.

The only thing holding back the dancing was a question of whether the sills under the old house could take it.

As “Silent Night” filled the house, 72-year-old Beatrice “Bea” Snider, sat in the dining room of the four-room house and talked about what Christmas day was like in the Hoffner home.

A suitable tree was found in the woods and taken into the main room. “Usually we moved the Bible stand and put the tree there,” said Snyder, motioning to a corner of the room. The children strung popcorn and glued colored paper together to decorate the tree.

“Daddy would get a box of oranges, a box of apples, a box of peppermint candy and a box of flag candy and a pound of lemon sticks for mama,” said Snider.

The “flag candy” was strips of three-color coconut strips.

On Christmas morning, the children stood in line to get their treat, an orange and a peppermint stick.

She said her father would always tell them, “You can eat it all at one time, or make it last all day.”

Taking an orange, she made a small hole in the middle, and stuck in a stick of candy. That made it last a long, long time.

The Hoffner children have set about to make the family tradition last a very long time.

Nine of the 17 children who survive were there Saturday to carry on. They were joined by dozens of the 262 grand, great grand and great-great grandchildren.

The surviving brothers and sisters are Bea Snider, J.L. Hoffner, Lorene Barringer, Ada Oates, Betty Cauble, Virginia “Ginny” Kirk, Lottie Little, Odell Hoffner and Claude Hoffner. All except for Claude are residents of Rowan. Claude lives in High Point.

All show up for the family Christmas celebration at the home place off Scout Road. It has been unoccupied for several years, but it used for special events.

Ninety-two year old Odell found a good spot where he could soak in the music. As the songs continued, more folks arrived. Lorene Hoffner Barringer held forth in the kitchen, making sure the late arrivals got plenty of food.

She took a break to join her sisters in the dining room for a family album photo.

J.L. Hoffner, one of three surviving brothers, watched the cameras flash and the youngsters with the video cameras edge closer for the best picture.

The youngest of the brothers, his parents had flat run out of names by the time he arrived. He got initials “J.L.” which stand for nothing.

Just three days ago, J.L. had joined with other family members in burying brother, Robert.

For 75-year-old J.L., the family tradition is very much alive. “It’s a joyous feeling. It’s great to get back with the family.”

Two rooms a way, the sounds of joy fill the house and drown all other noise.

“Y’all come,” swirls around the house, and several others answer with a chorus of “Y’all come.”