by Rebecca Young
Growing up in my home Christmas was a very special and beloved time for our family. There was always an abundance of homemade Christmas cookies that my mother would spend hours preparing. My three younger brothers and I would deliver tins to several families in our neighborhood. Sometimes we would complain about doing this because of how snowy or cold it was but my mother insisted we do it anyways because Christmas was also a time for spreading joy to others. Nothing said holiday cheer like homemade fudge and chocolate covered peanut butter balls. The neighbors were always delighted to have us four showing up at their doorsteps. Mothers do a lot of work during these times and often aren’t acknowledged or thanked for their efforts nearly enough. My father would always take my brothers and I into town on Christmas Eve to pick out something special for mom.
I don’t know how many candles and pot holders that woman has unwrapped under the Christmas tree in the past 20 years. I do know she treasured every one of them. My favorite of all the Christmas traditions I grew up with was decorating our home. We had a huge box full of ornaments that we would go through as a family and place around the Christmas tree, a porcelain nativity scene that we kept on top of the piano and a silly old battery- operated wreath that would light up and sing Christmas songs when you walked by. To this day the wreath still sings and ironically enough, my own children have become entirely captivated by it, just as I was at their age. As a mother I hope I can keep these traditions alive and maybe start a few new ones along the way.