Ever since I was a little girl, our family’s Christmas traditions have always stayed the same. A few days before Christmas, we would meet with my Grandpa on my dad’s side. Christmas Day was mostly spent at home with just the four of us. We’d wake up early to open presents, eat breakfast, and then spend the rest of the morning watching Christmas movies. Christmas evening we would go to my Grandma’s on my mom’s side. Going to see her has always been one of my favorite parts of Christmas.
Christmas Eve, however, seems to be the tradition that has stayed the strongest. My dad’s family farm in Ark City has been around for generations. It had the prettiest views, and the sweetest little house towards the front of the land. The house had a certain smell to it that smelled like home.
When you walked into the house, the round dining room table would be covered with Christmas foods and snacks, and everyone was at the door waiting to give you a big hug. The kitchen had more food and hot chocolate on the counter. The room connected to the kitchen always had a board game being played. The whole wall was windows, and the view looking out onto the land was breathtaking. This room had all of the antiques and memories from family members that lived there in the past.
The living room will forever be the room I will never forget. The walls were light with pictures hanging up. The carpet was a light tan, which made the big army green sofa stand out. The giant piano on the right side of the room held a picture of me and the other kids on it. My Uncle John always had the Christmas tree stand up and decorated beautifully, and the endless number of presents under it would have made anyone’s mouth drop.
The best part of the living room was the fireplace. It was built out of stone, and had a stocking for every person hanging on it. Every one of my aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents had their own stocking, and they were all decorated differently. There were probably over 15 stockings on that fireplace.
The house was recently torn down, but that didn’t stop us all from getting together in the heated barn. As I got older, and started understanding why we celebrated Christmas, I realized that the memories I made when I was little are ones that I can’t forget. It wasn’t the place we celebrated, or the things we did, but who I got to spend my time with. I’m beyond thankful for years of memories.
