Christmas is certainly the time for special traditions. Traditions that are passed down through the generations and new traditions with their own special significance. I myself have enjoyed many traditions throughout my young life. Some I continue to enjoy and others I look back on with much fondness remembering them the most around this time of year. Today I would like to share with you an old Christmas tradition that I will forever link to my childhood and Christmas Eve.
The snow is quickly falling outside and dad has finally finished stitching up the turkey. Both of my parents have been busy in the kitchen preparing the food for the next morning. Into the oven, the turkey goes and it doesn’t take long for the sweet smell to creep through the house. I wander into the kitchen and curl up with Dad, he tells me a story. I have heard it many times before but that doesn’t stop me from wishing to hear it again. After all the more he tells me the truer it must be, right?
He tells me how Christmas eve is the most magical night of the year. He tells me that on every Christmas eve Santa’s magic makes all of the animals talk and toys come to life. If dad tells me it must be true.
I rush upstairs, grabbing my most favorite stuffed animals. We set ourselves up in the living room ready to watch our favorite Christmas movies. (we meaning myself and the teddies) I wish I could remember what movie we watched. Perhaps Rudolf or The Grinch.
As I sit smothering in stuffed animals I hear mom and dad call out to me with excited voices telling me to hurry back into the kitchen. When I come in I see the two of them sitting at the kitchen table watching the snow fall, in the dark with a single candle lit listening to the radio. Just as they would often do on Christmas eve. I hear what the fuss is about, the news broadcasters voice shouts with excitement though the whistling of the wind. “Our reports show that a strange object has been spotted in the sky over Northern Canada. Our sources are indicating that it must be Santa Clause.” My skin crawls with excitement. In Northern Canada? He is getting close… My parents beam with excitement.
Dad ensures me that they will be listening to all night to let me know where he is spotted. They go back to listening to the radio broadcast of A Christmas Carol and I head back to my chair surrounded by my teddy friends. Only one more sleep…
Thinking back to the Christmas eves of my much younger years I can’t help but think of the simplicity of it all. Just me and my parents in our little house. Turkey in the oven, fire lit, me waiting patiently for Santa to arrive. I, of course, wouldn’t trade that tradition for the world, I am happy to have had such an active imagination and I hold an appreciation for the little things because of the simple memories myself and my parents have together.
I have to admit this tradition stays alive in many ways. It is still often myself and my parents of Christmas eve and the radio broadcast still, blares in the background while I now stitch up the turkey in my father’s place. The Christmas Carol is either watched or listened to after we visit our family. So much familiarity spending Christmas eve at home. And although my stuffed animals are now often replaced with a glass of wine or a cup of eggnog I think this old/new timeless and memorable Christmas tradition will always remain a favorite of mine for all of my Christmases to come.
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