Well... Things have been hectic. I finally caught up on most of the family blogs.....and reading about the gingerbread men (like grandma used to make) reminded me of a lot of our family traditions. I thought it might be fun to share some with you all, and hope that you will share some of your family traditions as well. Perhaps with so many different families blending together, we can find new traditions to add to the old.
I would say one of my favorite family traditions was going out to pick the Christmas tree. This was no small task. We would all bundle up in our snowsuits, boots, mittens, hats and scarves. Usually by now, the snow was not too deep, but we would walk through some pretty deep drifts, because we all remembered from earlier in the year exactly where the perfect tree was at. You know everything looks different under a blanket of white. There was 6 of us to please, although Mom and Dad usually went along with whatever one the four of us kids decided on. It never failed though. The tree never fit. It was always too tall, and just a little bit crooked, and maybe a little bare on one side. That is the side that always went towards the wall. We got out the bucket, filled it with water, and then we had to wait for a week for the tree to settle. (I realize now that part of that is true, and part of it was that Mom and Dad were tired from the hike). As the tree thawed out, the smell of balsam pine would fill the house. Whenever I smell that certain scent, I am transported to all my yesterdays.....and Christmas. I am certain there must have been some of these at the first Christmas as well.
Next came the tree trimming. This again was done with great ceremony. Dad would do the lights. We didn't have the little twinkle lights, they were the big ones. Once he had the lights on then came the ornaments. We all have our favorites. There was some we had made when we were younger, and some that got handed down from other family members. Each one was wrapped with great care, no matter if it was a paper ornament, or a glass one. Each one had special meaning, and found a certain spot on the tree. We would take turns one by one, picking an ornament and putting it on the tree. Once all the ornaments were placed, Mom got out the boxes of tinsel. You remember those little thin silver strands. She would place them with a gentle touch, and finally Dad would turn on the lights. It was like someone had waved a magic wand. The lights were glowing as much as I am sure our faces were, in anticipation of more Christmas magic.
Finally, on Christmas eve, we would gather by the tree, and exchange our simple gifts to one another. This was started so that when Christmas day came, the small things we had gotten from our siblings wouldn't be lost under everything that Santa had brought. We were almost too excited to sleep. Mom and Dad would send us off to bed. We would hang our stockings by the bed. They had little jingle bells on them. Santa would come over night and fill our stockings with nuts, oranges, pencils and one small gift. Mom told me later that she would hear us get up early on Christmas morning whispering and giggling to each other. This was suppose to keep us from getting too anxious to come downstairs and wake them up to see what Santa brought. Steve and I continued the stocking tradition with Justin, and he told us often it was always fun to see what we would stuff in his stocking.
So as the countdown gets closer, listen for the jingle bells, smell the balsam fir, the gingerbread cookies (oops sorry Angie) and share the simple joy of Christmas with family and friends.
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