What a wonderful word – “Tradition.” To speak it, we almost have to stamp our foot and yell out “TRADITION.” In our family, if you do an act twice, it could easily slip into becoming a tradition. For instance, if we attended any play or concert which included music, tradition dictated that event must be followed by ice cream. Of course, our children became experts at bursting into song if an evening’s play did not include music.
When Geoffrey decided to take a bride, he was especially excited that she experience our traditional family Christmas, which is bereft of what others might expect. Only twice have we ever strung lights outdoors, and the traditional family tree has been reduced to an elfin four-foot creation which may be kept completely bare….or not.
Our Christmas tradition begins on the day after Thanksgiving. That is the day we are allowed to bring out the few items which prod our reminiscing. We begin with the music. As December 25th draws closer, the hand-stitched stockings are brought out for hanging. Each child can still show you on his or her own stocking just which stitches they contributed to the project.
The hand-made, plaster ornaments emerge. Each one is special – not because of its beauty, but because of the story that goes with it. Geoffrey globbed black paint on his sheep so thick that only he recognizes it as a sheep. David camouflaged his by gluing on cotton balls. There is the dark blue angel candlestick, created by one proud kindergartener, utilized as a doorstop. The Mrs. Buttersworth bottle completely covered with collaged bits of tissue paper did eventually dry, but still appears to be oozing glue some 30-plus years later. And the piece de resistance. . . . the last thing to declare we are ready to come together to celebrate. . . .the fat angel is given a place of honor. She was handsewn many years ago and stuffed by an overly enthusiastic three year old Patty. For when she is in place, it is as though the angels are heralding, “Let the traditions begin.!”
There is one bit of silliness that keeps our pot of tradition stirred. It is a set of fourteen red, green, and white wooden blocks. With one exception, each block has letters on two opposing sides; the exception has only one letter. When placed one way, the blocks read JESUS LOVES YOU and the other way MERRY CHRISTMAS. Once, years ago, I came into the room and noticed some “Rocky” fan had changed the message to read YO JESUS LOVES. That was the beginning of a new tradition, which gets pretty crazy. The following are just a few samples of the unexpected messages which greeted us last year: MR. TEACH IS R JURY and I JUST LOVE MUSH and MUST I LOVE MUSH and MASSIVE TRUE JOY and OLE RUMMY STARES and USE MY WATCH SIR and R CREATERS MESSY and RUSTIC MOSS and MERCY SO SURE.
It makes one ponder. “What traditions, begun with our generation, will be passed along to future family?”
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2 comments:
You know, either that fat angel has lost some weight over the years or the others have gained. She's not nearly so morbidly obese as she once was!
How funny that one of your traditions is so like one of ours! We have a set of "blocks" too, with a snowman family that sits on top. The blocks are supposed to read "Happy Holidays," but for endless years the "boys" in my family have delighted in rearranging the letters. The one they seem to like the best is "Happy Oily Shad," but many others also appear. It's really quite amazing how many words one can make out of H-A-P-P-Y=H=O-L-I-D-A-Y-S.
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