Tell about a favorite holiday tradition you had growing up.
Who doesn’t love Christmas? Well, you know, other than Orthodox Jewish people. There are so many little gems wrapped up in my mind involving traditions, tastes, sights, smells, feelings and songs.
Spritz. Mom would make those darling, dainty pressed-cookies each year that melted in your mouth as sugar-buttery goodness. Yum!
Carolling. Not that we participated much, but I loved the few successful times we did. One was in Fort Vermilion, Alberta when Dad, Mom and Christy came up for a -40 degree Christmas. We sang four part harmony to the Hepburns on a crystal clear, freezing night under the moonlight. It was delightful.
Candlelight Church Services. I’ve only been to 3 or 4, but there is something holy about candle light in Jesus’ house on his birthday. Of course, not a single candle-lit service passed without me visualizing Michael Jackson’s hair bursting into flames on that Coke commercial.
Nanaimo Bars. Many Canadian mothers made ’em. Only mine cut the custard layer and hand-spread the chocolate on each one. You know, those chocolated-then-cut bars always tasted a little cheap to me.
Christmas Lights. Sparkling lights on houses and in yards are so beautiful ~ especially in snow. I think that is the lone happy memory I have about living in Northern Canada in the wintertime – OK, that’s two, counting the four part carolling aforementioned. One year when we lived in Spruce Grove, we drove into Edmonton with all the Crosby’s in our party van. We went to Candy Cane Lane and drove with the windows down and the sliding door open. OK, freezing but fun.
Fire in the Fireplace. Crackling. Popping. Hissing. Spitting. There’s something LIVE in a fire. I also am secretly addicted to staying warm – so a toasty hearth draws me like a fly to fly paper.
The Empty Ornament Box. It was 1992… or was it ’93? We were stuck in Fort Vermilion for Christmas so my family sent a box of gifts to us. I don’t remember any other contents of that box – but a single small package addressed to Rick. It was an empty box that was supposed to have a Hallmark ornament in it. Mom never checked if it was actually in there when she bought it… and well… it wasn’t… mailed 2,000 miles to the frozen tundra…empty. Still makes me smile.
Drift Wood Angel. Dad’s cousin Jo painted an angel on a large piece of driftwood that hung near our entry all the days of my childhood. When tole-painted angels on driftwood finally went out of style ~ I inherited it… in 2005. I have proudly hung the slab in our entry ever since. Long live driftwood angels! Noel.
My Sister's Jar 