As I write this, I am sitting on a plane that is hurtling me westward, across the surface of the Atlantic ocean. Plane rides are long and discomforting things, but as they go, this time isn’t so bad. All around me are other students my age, who are journaling or looking out the tiny windows at the earth beneath us, and I like to imagine that they are going home for Christmas too.
There’s lots of time to think on planes—time to think about what you’re leaving behind, and what you have to look forward to. After I flipped through my travel journals and relived memories from the last four months, I’ve begun to imagine all the midwinter moments that I can’t wait to experience with my family.
Decking the Halls
The Christmas Decorating begins the day after Thanksgiving. Being abroad, I clearly missed this one. Still, I have fond memories of past years, when everyone in the family joins forces to carry down boxes from the attic. We always had Christmas music blasting as we decked the halls (YOU WILL BE MERRY AND BRIGHT TOO, DANG IT). Every family has their “essence of Christmas” artist—the one you listen to when you decorate the tree, you know— and ours has always been Amy Grant.
Of all the decorations, my favorite has always been our Department 56 Dickens houses; they look so cozy with their window-lights a-glowing. Since I missed the decorating itself, I’m looking forward to coming home and entering our own little winter wonderland.
The Neighborhood Cookie Exchange
When you see dozens of sugar cookies lined like little soldiers upon our kitchen countertop, you know the neighborhood Cookie Exchange is almost here. My mom is the acknowledged Sugar Cookie Queen, who flood ices cookies to extreme perfection every year—last year was horses, and this year it will be snow globes with Christmas trees inside them. On the night of the Exchange, my mom and my sister and I drive over to our neighbor’s house for a girl’s evening together—hot soup, apple cider, and great conversation. At the end, we get to take home four dozen assorted cookies to my three brothers and my dad, who are all eagerly anticipating the moment we walk in the door.
Family Christmas Road Trip
My mom and dad’s extended families live up in the Sacramento area, so we usually drive up there one weekend in December. I love the feeling of flying down the freeway, a Starbucks coffee in the cupholder, and having hours to spend wandering in thought, listening to music, or reading a new book. We always stop at this place called Harris Ranch, about at the halfway mark, for a “bathroom stop” (but my mom and I secretly just like to see all the festive winter decorations and the gigantic gingerbread house). Our time with family is wonderful (especially since we only see them this one time each year) but it’s always a beautiful feeling to come home again. The drive is getting harder, though, since my brothers and sisters and I have grown tall. We don’t cram into the old family suburban as well as we used to.
The Codes
When we were younger, my siblings and I used to peek at the tags on all the presents, trying to figure out whose were whose. At some point, my mom got tricky and began using codes, like the shade of wrapping paper, instead of writing our names.
Fast forward ten years, the “codes” have evolved into an elaborate schemes using various things—like fictional characters, movie titles, cities, photographs, ribbons, and even the names of Newt Scamander’s bowtruckles—to represent each person. For example, my brother is going to choose a song for every person. My code will be polaroids of places I visited while I was abroad, which is made more fun for the fact that all my presents were bought in the U.K. and carried home in a suitcase.
Christmas Eve by Candlelight
Is it just me, or is Christmas Eve somehow more exciting than Christmas itself? One last day, dedicated entirely to the listening of choral carols, the baking of cozy treats, the enjoyment of holiday decorations and lights. We always attend a candlelit service at our church. The “candlelit” part is one of my favorite things. Singing holy hymns like “O Come O Come Emmanuel” is always more sacred when sung together—it’s like in joining our voices, we become brothers and sisters again. Our voices become the flickering candle to ward off the darkness.
Back home, we share a simple meal of wild rice soup and hot bread—a “shepherd’s meal,” meant to reflect the humble gathering of the shepherds before they received the joyous news of our Savior’s birth in Bethlehem. My mom used to let us open two gifts on Christmas Eve—a pair of pajamas, and a new ornament that somehow represented our year. As lovely as it was while it lasted, this tradition has since been eliminated in our family efforts to simplify Christmas.
Christmas Morning
The morning comes with a flurry of excitement. We used to wake up our parents by jumping on their bed, but these days, mom wakes up before we do, turns on the espresso machine, and sets out a breakfast feast: sausage, my godmother’s killer cinnamon twists, and tangerines. Then, she blasts the “Hallelujah Chorus” from Handel’s Messiah at top volume until everyone wakes up. I’m pretty sure it’s revenge for all those years that we pounced on their bed at 6am.
Once everyone has gathered downstairs (and it can take quite a while to drag my older brother out of bed), we open stockings and presents. We often finish the festivities with a snowball fight of crushed wrapping paper—because why not finish Christmas morning with a bang?
Maybe it’s because I’ve been away for so long, but this year, I want to enjoy the Christmas season to the fullest. I want to savor the silent nights, the simple moments, the time with family. I’m going to try to keep the magic and the wonder alive. All of these traditions that my family has crafted over the years bring us closer together in our celebration of Christ coming to earth. After four months of travel, I can’t think of a better season to come home to.
Wishing you all the merriest of Christmases,
<3 Olivia Grace
