If you’re reading this on December 25th, that probably means you have the same type of Christmas evening I usually have: a boring one. We spend weeks, sometimes months scrambling through stores looking for the perfect gifts, decorations, and trees, planning menus, sending cards. When the big day comes, there’s a lot of hoopla in the morning with the presents, the family has a big dinner, and soon the event we’ve been working on for so long is over. Listless and full of pie, we might wander to the computer while the kids sift through their new toys.
If you’re reading this later, you probably have a completely different way to celebrate. But no matter how we observe the winter holidays, it’s almost guaranteed that every year’s experiences and memories, treasured or not, change us. They help shape us into the person we will be by this time next year, and for Christmases to come.
I know this to be true in my case, anyway. I learned the meaning of tradition from my father the first time he read the Christmas Story to us from the family bible the year after Great Grandpa passed away. I studied the art of diplomacy as Mom worked out the holiday schedule with grandparents, aunts, and uncles on both sides of the family. Even the occasional gift had a profound meaning. Like the plastic toy typewriter I used to pound out my grade school stories. Or the small book of recipe cards my grandmother gave to me, filled with handwritten instructions on how to make the dishes she served at her table. I’ve never managed to get any of them quite right, but I treasure that book more than any other in my library.
All of us here at Title Magic wish you a very happy holiday. And whether you’re listless and full of pie, or you’re briefly escaping the hoopla for a moment of peace and quiet, we’d love it if you’d share a memory or two with us. Merry Christmas!
2 comments:
Hey, I have some of my grandmothers', both of them, kitchen pans, bowls, which I absolutely treasure. My favorite is a pink flowered mixing bowl, cracked but exquisite -- oh, and the rolling pin. Heavy, large, made out of a hard wood -- yeah, those husbands get out of line, whack!...no, to my knowledge my grandmother never used it that way, just rolled out a lot of pie crusts. Merry Christmas, Savanna
Mel,
I love the story about your grandmother's recipe cards. My mom passed away about seven years ago, and I have her old Betty Crocker cook book. It still feels like a warm hug when I open it up and see her notes in the margin and stars by her favorite recipes.
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