Holidays

I was hoping marriage would make the holidays smaller. My dad was one of 10 Depression-era kids, so the holidays of my youth were the few times you went big— big food, big drink, big guest list. The time to reflect on the true meaning of the day was— well, somewhere else. Now that I was in a house with only two, I was thinking I’d found the place for just that.

Whoa, was I stupid. Two people meant two families, two turkey dinners, two Christmas trees, and too much driving. These events were great in their own right, but reflective time by the fire just wasn’t on the agenda. If I wanted a holiday steeped in heavenly peace, I’d have to look elsewhere.

This turned out to be easier than I thought. Detroit is the only major US city south of Canada, so we’re exposed to lots of Canadian culture.  Still, I used to think Canadian Thanksgiving just meant the turkey was served with poutine in November. Once I found out it was a different day, I saw the holiday break I was waiting for.

Since then, the second Monday in October has largely been about my little family gathering together with thanks for their blessings. The scaled down meal features turkey breast and boxed stuffing, but the highlight is how everyone can talk to each other in the same conversation. Not better than the one in November; just different. And wonderful.

The next small holiday is Saint Nicholas Day. December Sixth is a big deal in many European countries, where Nicholas leaves treats in good children’s shoes (and his sidekick used to administer discipline to naughty ones). At my house, shoes are left outside bedroom doors on the fifth, and dawn of the sixth finds them filled with five items— an orange (find out why next week), a new ornament for the tree, some kind of sweet to eat, a small gift (CDs were perfect for this task), and a poem written by me. It is the modest celebration I often wish Christmas was— then again, big can be good, too, if managed judiciously.

Small holidays end January 6th, known as Epiphany, Twelfth Night, Little Christmas, or Orthodox Christmas. Some churches commemorate this day as the day the three kings honored the birth of Jesus. For us, it’s a good reason to invite a handful of friends over, good friends who graciously compliment our now-sagging tree, eat the dregs of our Christmas cookies with cheer, and remind us why there is much to look forward to in the coming year. We serve galette, a French almond pastry that has a tiny statue, or santon, baked into it. If your piece of the galette holds the santon, you are King (Queen) of the Epiphany, and you are supposed to hold the party next year (let’s be clear— that last part never happens—we always throw the party.).

Holiday time is short, so big fetes are often the best way to catch up with everyone we’d never otherwise see.  Small holidays meet a different need that allow us to reflect and inspire. God bless them both, every one.

My Eldest

He doesn’t say much
Simply wandering the hillside
Munching
Musing
Then something catches his eye
That wasn’t supposed to be here
And up comes his head
With a quiet grin
He’s found something unexpected
And that’s what he lives for.

Like what you see? Subscribe for free.