By Jeanni Ritchie
I’m big on family traditions and Christmastime has some of my favorite ones. These childhood Christmas traditions remain deep in my heart, weaving their memories into the core of my being.
Some I carried on with my own children, others were but for that moment in time, discontinued but never losing their significance. New traditions were made, including my latest one: spending Christmas Day in a new city for the last three years.
But the ones that hold the deepest places in my heart are those from the 70’s and 80’s, the ones made with Mom, Dad, my little sister Sherri, and me.
Every ornament on the tree tells a story, and so do these traditions from the “Core Four.”
Confectionary Creations: My mom (along with my grandmothers and great-aunts) turned their kitchens into gift-giving bakeries during the holiday season. Mema Ritchie was famous for her chocolate chip cookies, Mema ‘Gomery made divinity, Aunt Mae was famous for her pralines, and Mom made the best peanut clusters in town. They were shared with friends, packed into holiday tins for the mailman and hairdressers, and left plenty on the counters for snacking.
Christmas Eve Service: Every year we attended the Christmas Eve service at Calvary, the church we attended faithfully. Each family would get a candle and walk to the altar to light that candle. Even in my difficult teen years, I felt unity with my family at every Christmas Eve service.
Christmas Eve Present: My sister and I got to open one present from under the Christmas tree on the way to church each year. My favorite gift came in 7th grade, though I was underwhelmed at first. I unwrapped— a spiral notebook. “Um, thanks….” I muttered. “Open it,” Mom said. Inside I found the words I’d dreamed of. “You’ll need new notebooks when you go back to school in January…at Brame!” I’d grown up going to the Catholic school down the street where my mom taught while all my church friends went to public school. I was finally going to be with my friends on more than just Sundays and Wednesday nights. Best. Gift. Ever. (Though that cruise my sister gave me last Christmas gave it a run for its money!)
Christmas Gifts Under the Tree: By mid-December there was always a stack of gifts under the tree. Some were from Mom and Dad, others mailed by relatives who lived far away. I loved the excitement of opening a wrapped gift so much, I never realized Sherri’s excitement wasn’t as intense. The reason, I discovered one afternoon, was that my five-years-younger, Scotch-tape-wielding sister had learned how to unwrap gifts without tearing the wrapping paper and rewrap them long before Christmas morning arrived!
The Arrival of Santa: Santa Claus arrived on Christmas morning, sometime before 4 AM. That’s the time I’d usually wake up, peek into the living room, and hurry back to my bed unable to sleep another wink. By 6:30 AM we were waking up my parents, begging them to let us open presents. Santa’s gifts had different wrapping paper and big block lettering for our names. Some bigger items, like new bicycles and —my favorite, a full-sized chalkboard to “play school” with my stuffed animals— were left unwrapped in front of the tree. Polaroid photos of these Christmas morning celebrations cover the pages of our family photo albums.
Christmas Stockings and Boots: Between checking out the unwrapped Santa gifts and opening the wrapped ones, we each opened our stockings. Mom and Dad filled ours, while they filled theirs for each other. Always an orange at the toe of the stocking, the rest was filled with our favorite candy (Life Saver storybooks and chocolate bars were the norm), puzzle books and fuzzy socks, and a small wrapped gift or two—usually a piece of jewelry. There were also two giant red Santa boots the Jolly Old Soul himself would fill with more goodies when he arrived.
Christmas Morning Breakfast Casserole: While we were opening gifts, Mom’s overnight breakfast casserole was baking in the oven. She assembled it every Christmas Eve when we returned from church. Eggs, sausage, cheese, and pieces of bread. It sat in the fridge as we slept, then cooked and ready to be enjoyed after gift-opening ended. I make this breakfast casserole occasionally now, the convenience and hearty goodness of the casserole only taking a backseat to the taste of nostalgia.
Christmas Day Play: The afternoon of December 25 was all about play. We took out our new bikes or skates—even a skateboard one year—as the unofficial neighborhood parade began. Kids lined the streets, decked in their new outfits, showcasing their new toys. We came back inside and played our new games and dressed our new Barbies. These are memories my parents are not in—I realize now they were most likely napping!
Christmas Walk Down Main Street: Occasionally we would travel to Kansas for Christmas where my dad’s family lived. Celebrating with our parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, and little cousin Summer was a gift in itself for Sherri and me. We’d open presents, play games, and have a big Christmas lunch. Afterward we’d walk through the little town of Emporia, looking at shops along the quaint Main Street and occasionally getting to play in snow. Sometimes we’d see a Christmas Day movie, a tradition I still love to this day.
Traditions should enhance, never restrict your holiday season. Keep what works; throw out what doesn’t. Create new traditions. Bring back old ones. Traditions are the fabric of families, the tapestry of our souls. These traditions wove their way into who I am, the fabric of my family, and the joy I carry into every Christmas Day—no matter where I spend it now.
Jeanni Ritchie is a contributing journalist from Central Louisiana. She loves all things Christmas. She can be reached at jeanniritchie54@gmail.com.
