Holiday Traditions

The tradition which my family most looks forward to is Christmas Eve. Our tradition is that we get our tree early in the morning and spend the day decorating it until we need a nap! After a refreshing rest we ready a annual meal of fish and light fare. After dinner we relax by reading Christmas stories and singing songs around the piano. The children love being able to stay up late into the night as we prepare for Midnight Mass. Our most important tradition is Midnight Mass in all its beauty and reverence which has been celebrated for thousands of years. What a beautiful time of year to celebrate.
Thanks Bob S.

Christmas eve is tops. Family Church service at 4PM including the Childrens gift to the Baby Jesus. These gifts are then donated to local charities. Candlelight singing of Silent Night.

From Joan C.

Whenever I can, I like to listen to Benjamin Britten's "Ceremony of Carols" during the Christmas season. It is an exquisite piece of music; and I have had the good luck to be there for its second U.S. performance--possibly even the second performance in the world, although I am not sure of that. Surely SOMEBODY had performed it in England before our choir did it at Cedar Crest College. But here is the story from the Cedar Crest end:

The head of our music department, Dr. Wilbur Hollman, had heard the first American performance in New York. He had returned to the college, had gone to President Moore, and had urged him to get the rights to perform it on our campus. While we didn't have exactly the sort of treble choir the composer had envisaged (i.e., boys), were and are a woman's college. So we had a perfectly serviceable treble choir of our own.

Our choir did a lovely job. I still have a mental image of the procession down the aisle in Alumnae Hall auditorium. They were accompanied by Edna Phillips, then principal harpist of the Philadelphia orchestra.

I continue to love this work. I urge anyone who has not yet heard it to make it a point to do so. For some of them, I believe, it will be the beginning of a new tradition.

On the morning of Christmas Eve I love walking through our acres of trees --- particularly on a crisp day under a bright blue sky --- and collecting greens and berries to make a welcoming wreath for our front door. Solitude in nature gives me a quiet inner peace, and using my creative talents nourishes my spirit --- I am then ready to begin the holiday each year!

I am the youngest of 3 girls in my family. My sisters are 4 and 5 years older than me so I was in elementary school when they were in high school. They were both on the marching unit which usually placed first in competitions. They were great at everything...field competitions, indoor competitions, jazz band competitions and symphony orchestra competitions. Those kids could do it all! It wasn't really Christmas in my heart until the annual Christmas Concert. The auditorium (actually just a gym) was always packed! Since we went to a Catholic school we didn't have a fancy, acoustically perfect hall but you'd never know it by the sound. Archbishop Wood High School in Warminster, PA had two mirrored schools back in the 70's, a boy's school and the girl's school. I graduated back in 1977. I miss those Christmas Concerts!

My grandparents were part of the great wave of immigrants from Eastern Europe in the late 19th Century. They brought with them the traditions of their villages in Poland. Among these are the wonderful foods, songs and stories that have accompanied Christmas Eve every year of my life. The Christmas Vigil supper includes peasant foods such as dried peas, mushrooms and sauerkraut, pierogi, and barley with honey, all served one at a time. The serving dish is placed on a wafer, or oplatki, which rests on a bed of straw, calling to mind the manger where Jesus was laid. The dinner is eaten when the first star appears in the evening sky. But before enjoying it, we kneel for a moment of silent prayer to remember our loved ones who are no longer with us. In this way, we continue to share our holiday tradition with those who first brought them to this country.

Our family tradition is a Christmas Eve Dinner. There is no meat and it amazes to see all the meatless dishes that can be served at one meal. There is five varieties of fish, including pickled herrings. Accompanying the fish is pirogies, mashed potatoes, green pea & cabbage, stewed prunes and other vegetables. The table is set with an extra setting because there is always room for Christ at our table. Each setting has a blessed wafer signifying the body of Christ. Before dinner we say a prayer thanking God for our family and the meal. Then in turn everyone passes their wafer to the person next to them where that person breaks off a small piece and passes it along. The wafer proceeds around the table until it returns to its owner. The wafer is consumed during the meal. Then there is an assortment of deserts.

Christmas Eve is one of my favorite days of the year. On Christmas Eve, my 5 brothers and sisters, my parents and I all get in the car and take a ride up to Ithaca. Our first stop is the Chinese Buffet, where we have our traditional Christmas Eve lunch. After lunch, we get back in the car and drive over to Taughannock Falls for a nice afternoon hike up the gorge to the falls. Every year we take a family picture in front of the falls. When we get back to the car we all have some hot cocoa and Christmas cookies as we make the drive over to Wegmans to pick up some groceries before heading home. On the car ride back to our humble abode, we listen to a tape we have of Patricia Polacco reading her book, "The Trees of the Dancing Goats" as well as Morgan Freeman reading the Christmas Story both from Rabbit Ears Radio.

When we get home, we settle back in and break out our stockings. Eventually we all go up to my grandmother's house to celebrate Christmas with her. We all have some more Christmas cookies and open gifts. As the night wears on, we return to our house and hang our stockings before the young ones retire for the night and the older children and my father go to midnight mass.

At 6:30 the next morning all of us kids joyously go downstairs and behold the beautiful sight of the Christmas tree while we open our stockings.

These are our traditions. Sure, they may see silly to others, but they aren't to me. Christmas is my favorite holiday, and I truly believe that these traditions, these wonderful times that I spend with my family, are what make this holiday so special to me.

-W.P.

R.I.P. M.A.M.

Like many local listeners, I am of eastern european (Ukrainian) origin. We have a traditional Christmas Eve supper which includes several soups, one of which is a black mushroom soup made with dried boletes ("red-toppers"), barley and sauerkraut juice. I love it, but it is definitely an acquired taste. My children unfailingly complained about it, until the year I suggested we not make the mushroom soup. What an uproar that created! Needless to say, ten years or so later, my traditions are intact. And everyone loves the soup!

A family tradition that I look forward to takes place on Christmas eve at my sister's house. Because the house sits on a ski slope almost every Christmas has been a white one. After an early dinner we attend a beautiful candlelight service at her church followed by a drive through the Festival of Lights display at a local park before heading back up the mountain. The rest of the evening we sit in front of the fireplace watching skiers and enjoying each other's company.

Ours (my two daughters and me) is to eat pumpkin pie for breakfast the day after Christmas. What makes it unusual is that when they were little, I came upon the 3 year old eating it with a spoon right out of the pie pan. She was so enjoying it that I could not bear to make her stop so i joined her and invited her sister to join in the fun. they will turn 30 this January and we still indulge!!

The Magi remind us that we are all tourists seeking light--an important idea in this era of increasing xenophobia. To that end, I like to bring to our family gatherings the customs, icons, food and songs of various cultures in addition to celebrating our own American Christmas. We will hang ornaments and eat delicacies from Germany, Croatia, Russia, Ireland, Italy, France, and Spain. On January 6, we will eat Rosca, the traditional Mexican cake that has a small figure of the baby Jesus baked inside and the children will be encouraged to put their shoes outside their door to receive the small trinkets and candies the Kings leave. While we listen to the beautiful Celtic Christmas songs, we will light a ring of candles against the darkness to honor Saint Lucia as they do in Sweden. Most of all, we will delight and wonder at the many ways various countries and cultures celebrate this holiday, mindful that ours is only one of many traditions by which the human heart honors the divine.

Every Christmas morning, as soon as the kids wake up, I put sticky buns in the oven. While we open our presents, we look forward to the gooey treats!

Also, our holiday wouldn't be complete without listening to George Winston's album, December.

A simple tradition, but it brings back memories of all the wonderful Christmases we've had together.

While our holiday tradition technically dates back to 1976, it truly began with my grandparents, as they established a close and loving relationship with and among their seven children. My father, born in1920, now a young 87 years old, is the youngest of the boys and the 4th born child.
Each year at Chanukah my father's family: children, grandchldren, great grandchildren, nieces, nephews and on to the next generation of cousins ,share in a family Chanukah party. We have been four generations,cousins have traveled from Israel, California, Chicago, New York,Massachusettes, Connecticut, Pennsylvania and more to celebrate the holiday and each other. Complete with traditional foods. adults exchanging gifts in an auction game,and assigned recipients for the children's gifts. Our wonderful afternoon ends with the lighting of the Menorah and bring tears to your eyes blessings and Chanukah songs.( to some because of the off key-singing, to others because of the poignancy of the moment!!)
We then choose the host and hostess whose home we will invade for the next year and the date of the Chanukah Gathering. We all have something to look forward to once again as the tradition continues.
I am grateful for this amazing tradition, The fact that my children now know all their cousins and their cousins' children and grandchildren..My grandparents would be proud of the close relationships of the family they raised in the depression,with little money, but a lot of love.

My family looks forward to Christmas Eve. We all sing in our church choir and I play trombone in the brass choir. Our church has three services on Christmas Eve and we are involved in all three. The late service is the most special. It is a candle light service and abounds in music, fellowship and reverence. This is indeed a beautiful time of year to celebrate Christ's birth.
Thanks Mike D and family.

--Staying up late on Christmas Eve to finish decorating, wrapping, etc. while snacking on cookies, kielbasa, crackers and cheese... I know it's untraditional especially now when everyone decorates and begins getting ready so early. Christmas seems to start earlier every year, but I have fond memories of late Christmas Eves spent trimming the tree with family!
FYI--you can get a great deal on trees with this tradition!!

I've always loved the Hallelujah Chorus. We sang it several times in our small Church Choir, I knew it well. I was especially happy when it was chosen for the Finale to the High School Christmas Concert, our choir had some 300 voices, and we were Good! It was also my Senior year, my last Christmas Concert with them.
The time came, the Finale was at hand. Dr. Bell raised his baton...

And SHE ROSE, straight up, shoulders back, eyes forward...
others, looked amazed and stood, some tentatively, all eventually.

It was over, in the band room later, the Buzz was: "Did you see that Lady stand up?"
It was the PROUDEST MOMENT in My life to say, "That was My MOM!"

“Oh Come, All Ye Faithful”

I could tell you a joyful story of our family’s favorite Christmas traditions like icing sugar cookies with my mother and sister, eating more of the cookies than we decorated. I could tell you about pulling our wooden runner sleds down the snowy farm lane to chop down our Christmas tree. I could also tell you about a favorite childhood tradition of decorating my blue spruce tree in the backyard with old multi-colored lights the size of my fist. But instead, I’m going to tell you about a Christmas tradition that is not only a favorite of my family, but a favorite tradition of our entire community.

This tradition probably dates back over one hundred years, and it’s one that brought a mixture of excitement and fear to my meek, childhood soul—the St. John’s Lutheran Church of Sinking Valley’s, Children’s Christmas Program.

Images may come to mind, like children acting out the Christmas Story or singing Christmas hymns. We had all of those, a play, songs, but there was also another element to the program. Every child who played a musical instrument was asked to perform a Christmas song.

I remember the large boxes and sea of wrapping paper I had to traverse to reach my special Christmas present. It was a gift from my father’s side of the family. A gift I don’t recall asking for. It was my first electric guitar. It came complete with lesson and strict guidelines for daily practice. Upon opening it, I went back to playing with my new Cabbage Patch doll.

Once music lessons began, I thought I should have been asked if a guitar was what I wanted, but I knew I couldn’t say that I didn’t like it. That would have humiliated my parents and that had consequences. It was easier to accept the fact that the guitar would be my instrument. I could only have one and that was it. It didn’t matter that I longed to play the flute in the school marching band. There wasn’t an extension cord long enough for an electric guitar in a marching band.

A year of lessons went by, it was time again for the Children’s Christmas Program. This year, I was required to memorize several sentences to speak in public during the play, but I also had to perform a Christmas song. I didn’t realize that this was actually a prestigious event among the St. John’s congregation—to have two or three minutes of the church service devoted to your performance, and only a few of the children were aspiring musicians. But I wasn’t even aspiring! I was living out a musical death sentence.

There was no way around it. Sarah would be in the program too, standing in front of the shinning, gold alter with her beautiful, dainty flute exuding a melody so angelic that it would reach all the way from earth to heaven. The flute, that was the instrument I longed to play! I wanted to be a flutist just like some of my friends in school, all carrying an adorable, small rectangular flute case. I could barely get my guitar case on the bus, and even when I did, I had to leave it on the bus floor in the front with the bus driver.

We would arrive at the church for Sunday School at 9:30 a.m., prior to the church service, which rested on our shoulders to produce. My sister and I would haul all of our equipment to the upstairs of the church and set up our guitar, amplifier, and sheet music next to the old, black piano on the right side of the alter, which was never played unless the organist was absent. Then we would rush downstairs to the church basement for Sunday School. Our friends from school would be there, along with those who attended the other schools. We still felt as though we were just as close to those friends who did not go to our school, because we all practically grew up together in Sunday School. We faced the same types of challenges and rewards. We would begin with practicing our singing, the adults reminding us to smile, sing loudly and speak up. Then our large group would divide into classes, based on our age.

All around me, kids were talking about what they wanted for Christmas, what happened at school or what they were going to do over the Christmas break. How could they be having fun at a time like this? I wished I could practice my song one more time. Maybe I chose the wrong song? Should I pick a different one?

The building became silent, as silent as it does when the pastor tells everyone to bow their heads to pray. Only they weren’t bowing their heads and closing their eyes. The entire congregation was fixed on me, and only me, watching as I walked to my guitar, as I turned the nub on the amplifier, as put the guitar strap around myself, and as I sat in the chair of judgment.

It was a Lutheran church, so most of the members sat in the back, that was one blessing, at least there would be distance between the audience and myself. My pick plucked the first note. It sounded hollow, so different from where I practiced in the corner of the dining room with my mother’s kitchen timer ticking thirty minutes at shoulder level on the china cabinet.

I played the song flawlessly many times at home and at my guitar teacher’s house. Even last night! Why did it sound so different now? I started to think that if I could have an acoustic guitar it would sound much softer and peaceful than the harsh, sharp metallic ringing of my electric guitar. Halfway through the song, I realized what was wrong. It no longer mattered that I was picking all the correct notes.

I could see my parents, from the corner of my eye. While everyone else delighting in hearing the music, I knew mom and dad were holding back their excited anticipation of being able to do what every parent of the St. John’s congregation longed to do, proudly brag of their child’s accomplishments. Although, my parents would be bragging in the Lutheran tradition—humble and pious in church, but once we were in the car, the comparisons and the ‘could you believe that, him or her’ would begin. After this church service, the topic would be my off tune performance.

I wanted to stop playing the song, but my music teacher had stressed that I had to keep playing even if I made a mistake. I followed through and finished playing the song, even though my guitar was out of tune!

What was it my guitar teacher always said? Even if you make a mistake, the audience might not notice. This was a congregation that barely sang at an audible level, they only sang because the worship service required it. Maybe they hadn’t noticed that I was out of tune?

The last note resonated in its off tone mixture of sharp and flat. Applause hit me like an unexpected wave in the ocean when you have your back turned. Lutheran’s never clap in church; church was not a place for celebration! However, the one time they did clap was for the Children’s Christmas Program. They clapped for everyone. If you didn’t applaud every child, you would be insulting the family of the child you didn’t applaud.

Nothing could be left to chance for next year. The saga of the entire program was told to my guitar teacher. We would begin practicing now, in January, for the next Christmas Program. I would perform songs at the Mother Daughter Banquet during Easter, in every school talent show, at family events, and finally I would present the ultimate Christmas song that would bring redemption for my parents. One that would melt the advent candles and cause the stained glass image of Jesus to weep.

I was given instruction on how to be my own ‘roadie’. I was told to place my chair parallel to the pews rather than perpendicular, that way I wouldn’t be able to see the people. I was given finger exercises to practice everyday. I was informed of how temperature and weather affect musical instruments, and that I should tune my guitar on location.

Then, it came time for song choice. The choice was mine. I could go with something easy like Jingle Bells, Oh Christmas Tree, or Deck the Halls. Yes! It would be nearly impossible to make a mistake. Mom and dad would be so proud! But those carols only have a few notes that are repeated over and over. People would know that I picked an easy song. I should play something that reflected how many lessons I’ve taken. After all, I was on book B of Mel Bays Classic Guitar! What would the elders of the congregation like? It would have to be a hymn, something religious. I flipped through my sheet music. Oh Come, All Ye Faithful, hum…a mixture of notes in the melody with several chords. That would make me sound like a musical prodigy! It was decided, Oh Come, All Ye Faithful.

The Christmas Program rehearsal and Sunday School prior to the program, all brought the same feelings as the previous year. My pulse pounded through to my sweaty fingers. I did not want to go first, but I was not able to bear being last. The nervous energy was taking over my body. Maybe I would have an anxiety attack right now, here in the pew? I wasn’t worth it, I’d probably still have to play guitar in the hospital for the doctors, nurses and patients.

That’s my name being called.

I can remember the picture of the Star of Bethlehem that was at the top of the sheet music next to the title Oh Come, All Ye Faithful! It was a red star. I always pictured it as a yellow star, but nonetheless I hit every chord correctly, every note to perfection. I don’t remember how it sounded, but I know my hands were not shaking.

The people who heard my performance probably forgot about it by the time Amy pecked out Jingle Bells on the piano, but Oh Come, All Ye Faithful will always bring me back to the red church in the valley, the reminder of family and friends and the urge to get the guitar out and pick a few Christmas songs.

Since then, I still play Christmas music on my guitar every year, not in front of the St. John’s congregation, but to entertain friends and family. One Christmas I even made a tape recording of myself performing Christmas hymns and gave it to my parents as a gift. Every time I listen to Oh Come, All Ye Faithful, I recall the Christmas Programs and faith the song taught me to have in myself.