Christmas Traditions – Then

I love the stories behind how traditions are formed.

Growing up we had a lot of Christmas traditions, and as a kid I took them as a given. It wasn’t until later that I found out the simple reasons that formed those traditions.

For example, we always open all of our presents on Christmas Eve, so obviously we weren’t a Santa Claus kind of family. It wasn’t that our parents didn’t allow us to believe in the magic of Santa, it just was not taught or emphasized. I asked my parents about this later and they said that they didn’t want to teach us that Santa was real, and then turn around and teach us that Jesus was real, because one really is, and really loves us, and really wants a relationship with us, and the other is a legend who has become a symbol of a lot of things, and some of those things are not worth teaching your children (i.e. commercialism, and being good to get stuff.)

Christ was the center of our household growing up, especially at Christmas. Being a pastor’s kid meant late night services Christmas Eve, but that didn’t stop us from having our own little Christmas pageant before we opened our gifts. We’d get all dressed up and act out the story as Mom read from Luke and Dad videotaped. When we were very young David and Sarah played Mary and Joseph, I was usually the angel of the Lord (fitting, right?) 🙂 , and Rachel was baby Jesus. One of my favorite Christmas memories is a video we have of Rachel at about 16 months old in a laundry basket manger. She would just not stay in! So Sarah kept pushing her down and Rachel kept standing right back up, smiling up a storm. When Rachel was too old to be baby Jesus any more, her role was changed to a shepherd and a cabbage patch kid replaced her as the Holy child. 🙂

Christmas Eve dinner was fondue! I guess my parents got a few fondue pots as wedding presents or something, and it was a fun way to do dinner with four kids. We had a spread of all kinds of fruit to dip in chocolate, yummy bread to dip in hot cheese, and good ole’ red meat (venison or beef steak) to fry in oil. Yes, our parents apparently trusted us enough to allow us to fry our own meat, although I’m not sure when that started.

Anywho, another reason we opened our presents Christmas Eve, I found out later, is because we would always head to our Grandma’s place in Duluth very early Christmas morning. Our parents would pack us up in our PJ’s and load us into the maroon minivan while it was still hours from daybreak. That way, we would sleep most of the 8 hour drive and wake up just before we arrived. Smart people, my parents.

The experts say that smell is one of the most intense senses that trigger memories. I can attest to that because I can still distinctly remember how my grandma’s apartment building smelled. There was a gas fireplace in the lobby and the smell of Christmas-y potpourri from the holly wreaths and other decorations that residents hung on their doors. Grandma’s apartment had a very unique combination of scents as well, although the one that sticks out in my mind the most is the aroma of turkey loaf. You know, the Jennie-O frozen kind that cooks in its own gravy. Sometimes I cook that up just because I’m missing Grandma.

Both of my parent’s families lived in Duluth, so although we stayed with our dad’s mom (grandpa died before I was born), we spent time with our mom’s dad and his wife as well. Our maternal grandma died before I was born, but grandpa had remarried to a wonderful woman who totally accepted us as her grand kids. After opening presents at Grandma’s and hanging out with our uncles, aunts, and cousins, we would head out to Grandpa’s to do the same.

Grandpa was a very quiet, stoic man, but Grandma Marie was loud and boistorous. She had kids from her previous marriage, and they had kids, so we had a lot of step-cousins running around to play with. There would be a huge spread of snacky foods on the dining room table, and I remember loading up on broccoli and ham buns. Grandma Marie bought us the most interesting presents, most of which she bought on the home shopping network. One year I got a plastic doll that crawled. It broke the next day. My dad’s brother, Bill, said he could fix it because his brother, Richard, was a doctor. He couldn’t. 🙂

Anywho, after opening presents the cousins would head downstairs to the basement where there would be a roaring fire in the fireplace. Rachel and I were talking about the basement not to long ago and she asked me if I remembered the mugs that Grandpa had on a shelf on the wall. Oh yes, I do. They were a series of mugs that had a nak*d woman (was it a mermaid?) climbing out of the mugs. It’s just one of those really odd things that sticks out in our minds. Hehe. We also remember our cousin (Donny? Scott?) that would always roast his socks in the fireplace. Odd.

Those kinds of family memories make up a childhood and are something that I want to be able to share with my kids someday, and I hope that our boys have benefitted from the effort we put into making their Christmases special, and will remember them fondly.

Do you have any quirky traditions? I’d love to hear about them.

Leave me some comments, people! 🙂 Over 300 of you are reading this blog daily, so now would be a great time to hear from you.

Merry Christmas Blessings!

Hannah