Once our towering pine was placed, we
began the task of placing our heirloom, hand crafted family ornaments on the
tree. OK, that’s not true. We do have some ornaments that might be considered vintage
and handcrafted if we count the popsicle stick sled that Matt Roberts made and
gave to son, Caleb, in the second grade. Or the wad of pacifiers that dangle
from a limb. That same boy wouldn’t take any binky I offered although I bought
every brand. What to do with all those rejects? I was determined not to waste
them and declared I would hang them on the Christmas tree. And they have been
there every year for going on thirty years… including the mousetrap. Wait…
what?
Now this goes back even farther. It
started the year I tried my hand at stringing popcorn only to have it eaten
Pac-Man style off the tree. Little nephew, Justin, now almost forty years old,
asked me “Aunt Patti, why is there a mouse in your Christmas tree?” Good
question. So I added a mousetrap and caught two of those vermin. Nothing says
Christmas like a dead rodent tangled with the tinsel.
Then our clan begins the treasured task
of shopping for our beloved family. OK, that’s not true either. There is
probably only about two in our tribe that actually enjoy shopping. We cut that
job out years ago. My mother insisted on us having a present to unwrap, so we
all buy our own gift and then we randomly choose one to open and guess who
bought it for themselves. It’s rather hilarious and everyone loves their
present. Zero returns. Right now some of you are gasping in horror, but there
are others thinking, dang, that’s a good idea.
Then there is the family tradition of
cooking, and baking and candy making. Those sacred recipes passed from
generation to generation, coveted and anticipated every holiday. Yeah, that’s
not true either. Don’t get me wrong, our clan does have some good cooks. But as
families grow and split and add to, just finding a time to be under the same
roof at the same time is an accomplishment with or without homemade noodles.
Our bunch has been all over the board, or I should say, table, with foodstuffs.
We’ve gobbled Mexican, breakfast and fried chicken. Christmas still happened.
But there is one family tradition that
is constant: As believers, we choose to remember the season as the celebration
of our Savior’s birth. This is true. Whether we have trees or turkey, we have
the tradition of attending church together, of taking the time to hear about
the baby born in Bethlehem.
May all your family’s traditions be fun,
and memorable but more importantly, let them come home to the truth.
