Our traditions come from shared experiences intended to create feelings of love, belonging, and community, and it is the traditions that tell the story of our family.
The practice of decorating Christmas trees can be traced back to Germany, and we can thank our European ancestors for bringing that tradition here. The Europeans can also be credited with the many holiday markets that pop up in major (and small) cities around the world. Hello mulled wine. Christmas markets remain a staple in Paris, where wooden chalets are lined up in rows, and artisans and craftsmen are selling everything Christmas. A little closer to home, New York’s Bryant Park is home to a spectacular Christmas market each year.
Across the pond, our jolly ol’ neighbors in the United Kingdom are prepping Christmas pudding for their holiday meal. The pudding is a custard-esque concoction that began as a porridge and has sweetly evolved over the years. It typically has 13 ingredients, representing Jesus and the 12 disciples, and might include cranberries, raisins, currants, sugars, citrus peels, mixed spices, eggs, and milk. But it is the brandy poured atop and set aflame that really makes the yuletide glow.
In Mexico and Latin America, La Posadas is celebrated for nine nights, from December 16 to 24, and represents the journey that Joseph and Mary made from Nazareth to Bethlehem in search of a safe refuge where Mary could give birth to the baby Jesus. Traditionally, a procession goes to different homes each night, followed by mass. On the final night, Christmas Eve, children break open piñatas shaped as stars (to represent the star that guided the three wise men) filled with toys and candy.
Gingerbread houses, yule logs, ugly sweaters, advent calendars, cookie exchanges, the Feast of the Seven Fishes, The Nutcracker, candy canes, fruitcake—each has a story to tell.
So, this begs the question: How did my family of English, Irish, Czech and Hungarian decent decide that singing for Santa on Christmas Eve would be the tradition upon which we hang our old top hat?
Growing up, each year as the Christmas decorations would come down from the attic, so would the song books. My sister Sharon and I would pore over the books, making our selection for the “big show.” For years and years (and decades before we were born), we placated Santa with musical mumblings of “Jingle Bells,” “O Christmas Tree,” and “Rudolph, the Red Nosed Reindeer.”
But one year it all changed. This was when my aunt and uncle (who were easily septuagenarians) upped the ante. That year, Santa didn’t just get lyrics. He got a choreographed routine to the tune of “Away in the Manger” that would have put the Von Trapp children to shame—hand gestures, fancy footwork, and a little miming to boot. Uncle Al and Aunt Madeleine stole the show, and the competition was on.
After that year, it became each family unit’s mission to out sing and out dance the others. We added background music, dance steps, lip-synchs, and song parodies. This was serious business. And it became a new tradition—one that we continued after my “branch” of the family tree migrated south.
Last year, as we prepared for our fifteenth Lowcountry Christmas Eve, I got to thinking. My nieces are no longer young enough to believe in Santa … so is making someone don the 50 year-old-smells-like-moth-balls-Santa suit so the rest of us can sing for our first gift really necessary?
I voted no and attempted to inject a new tradition into the mix. I wrapped stocking-stuffer-sized gifts in a massive ball (think 18-inch circumference) of plastic wrap and forced everyone to try to unwrap the ball, whilst wearing oven mitts, to a timer, to attempt to uncover a gift.
It was fun, but it won’t replace singing for Santa. Because after we all cussed our way through the plastic ball debacle, Santa arrived. And my stepfather emerged from the shadows (my sister’s laundry room), dressed in drag as my mother, and sang for his present. And I realized that even though I can’t trace our family’s karaoke coalition back to a moment of historical significance, it is indeed significant. To us.
Want to kick up your Christmas celebration and prime the pump for a karaoke competition? Here’s the recipe!
Courtney’s Mom’s Christmas Eve Punch
¾ cup water
¾ cup sugar
1 6-inch cinnamon stick
1 teaspoon whole cloves
1 quart cranberry apple juice
Dash salt
2 cups red wine chilled (Just because it is a mulled wine, doesn’t mean the cheapest red you can find will do. Try a Zinfandel from the Sonoma Coast, as these reds have a naturally sweet quality, use no oak, and feature vanilla and spice tones.)
Directions: In saucepan, combine water, sugar, cinnamon, cloves and salt; bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer 10 minutes. Strain the spices and chill the liquid. Combine chilled mixture with wine and cranberry-apple juice. This recipe makes 12-14 four-ounce servings. If your family is anything like mine, quadruple the recipe.
Merry Christmas.
