My mother gave to me the baby book she kept in the first years after I was born. It is fairly typical example in many ways: lists of various milestones like walking and talking, height and weight, that sort of thing. One section has space to record the first seven years of Christmas.
Years 1-4 are recorded in some detail: I got so many new outfits, was/was not waiting up for Santa, did/did not cry when I got my picture made with Santa, lists of toys, all the stuff a mother would record when tracking the growth of her first son. Full, rich, detailed paragraphs.
Year five simply reads: "This year we did not celebrate Christmas because we have learned the truth about Jehovah God." No subsequent entries.
Turn to the section on birthdays, find similar entries for four years: who came to the party, what grandma bought, how well I behaved myself, how much cake I ate. Year five: "We spent the day at home."
It's quite shocking to see a family go from normal to profoundly strange in such a stark fashion.