Blessed Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve has always been a blessed event. When I go to bed on Christmas Eve, that is the beginning of the end of Christmas for me. As a child, I looked forward to Christmas Eve far more than I did the gift orgy of Christmas morning. 

There was something almost holy about the time we gathered around the candlelit dinner as a family and  partook of traditional foods enjoyed only on that one evening of the year. It was a sacred time as we read Luke 2 by candlelight and giggled as Dad performed Chinqay Topelinni for us kids, the poem created by a young missionary for the Italian children he adored, about five little mice causing mischief on Christmas Eve.

Though much has changed in our family, and some traditions have fallen by the wayside while new ones have been created, this tradition remains virtually unchanged. And Christmas Eve continues to be the holiday tradition I look most forward to.

Christmas Eve brought the same warm memories this year that it brings every year. We gathered in Mor Mor's warm house. The Christmas tree glowed in the corner of her living room. The china was set carefully on the tables that reached from one end of the dining room to the other end of the living room. Ed Ames serenaded us with our favorite Christmas carols, as the smell of baked ham, and warm swedish bread drifted through the home. We took our annual family photos in front of the Christmas tree. Leslie and John joined us late as Leslie had made an unexpected visit to the ER this morning. Our wish for her this year... a return to good health and a few extra pounds on her bones.

We gathered around the table and enjoyed a quiet dinner over candlelight and enjoyed one of our favorite meals of the year. Baked ham, homemade Swedish bread with homemade mustard topped with cheeses and prickey korv, funeral potatoes, and corn. Thank heavens for The Little Dutch Shop that still carries our favorite spiced meat. It wouldn't be Christmas without it.

After bellies were full, and we had adequately discussed our eager anticipation of the Les Miserables movie coming out the next day, and after stuffing one more open-faced sandwich into our already filled-to-capacity bellies, we adjourned to the living room and Mor Mor and Grandpa handed out their gifts. 

Every year, Mom spends countless hours on handmade gifts for her many many grandchildren. She customizes each gift for each grandchild. This year, the boys got initialed duffle bags filled with flashlights and water bottles.

And the girls received handmade tote bags. The babies received hand-painted stools. Little Molly was in complete heaven as she perched herself on her tiny stool and snuggled her new baby. That little sweetheart is most content when she's perched on a cushion or stool of some sort.

We had only two minor catastrophes this evening. Poor little Sammy had a cheekbone collision with the corner of Neil's cookie sheet as he was handing out Pulla. And baby Eli experienced his first vomiting episode, something that was quite traumatic for the poor fella. Band-aids were put on the bloody cheek, and couches were scrubbed and clothes put promptly into the washer. Both victims fell into an exhausted sleep after their catastrophes.

We ended the night with a gleeful opening of Christmas jammies, this being the first year that everyone's pjs fit perfectly. The perfect end to a perfect day!