Memories That Bring Us Home
Growing up, our family had several Christmas Eve traditions that still glow warmly in my memory. Thinking about them now takes me right back—proof, I suppose, that I’ve reached the age where reminiscing becomes its own quiet pleasure.
One of the clearest memories is all of us gathered in the living room, the lights low, as we watched Amahl and the Night Visitors. I haven’t seen that film in years, and I often wonder how many children today have even heard of it. It’s such a beautiful story of honesty, generosity, and wonder. Today’s holiday favorites lean more toward The Santa Clause, Elf, and The Grinch. All fun in their own way, of course—but what happened to It’s a Wonderful Life or Miracle on 34th Street?
Stories That Stay With Us
Speaking of Christmas stories, do you have a favorite? Mine has always been The Gift of the Magi. It gets me every time—heartwarming, tender, and just sentimental enough to bring a tear to my eye. If you’ve never read it, this is the year to treat yourself. You don’t need a book. You can read it here for free.
The Magic of Midnight Mass
Although I was raised Episcopalian, both of my parents came from Catholic upbringings, so Midnight Mass was a must in our household. I’m not sure whether the excitement came from staying up late or from the hope that we might catch Santa in the act when we returned home. Either way, Midnight Mass felt special.
I remember feeling so grown up, swept into the beauty of the rituals—the incense curling upward, the choir filling the church with soaring hymns, the organ vibrating through the pews. The sanctuary glowed with Christmas trees, wreaths, and stained-glass windows shining outward into the night. I no longer attend Midnight Mass, but the memories remain vivid and dear.
Believing in the Magic
Life felt slower then. We sat together as a family, and my parents kept the Santa Claus story alive long after we “knew”—or thought we knew—the truth. Still, the note from Santa tucked into the tree on Christmas morning, or the sudden appearance of gifts that definitely hadn’t been there moments before, kept the magic alive. How did they do it? Even now, I’m not entirely sure.
It was mysterious, fun, and it was childhood.
Wishing You Warm Traditions of Your Own
I hope you and your family enjoy your own joyful traditions—whether they involve classic hymns, cherished stories, or even a movie called Home Alone.
What’s your favorite Christmas story?
The original Miracle on 34th street was one of my favorite Christmas movies. I remember going to midnight mass with Uncle Jimmy, Aunt Mary, and Grandma.
I don’t think you were still at home when I was thinking of the Midnight Mass. Mostly just Mom, Dad and John. I do remember that it always snowed and we’d have to slip, slide and spin our way back home. Quite the adventure for us kids.