For many of us holidays offer a chance to share in the traditions of our childhood. Thanksgiving for some means traveling over the river and through the woods to grandmothers' or some other relative's house.  Of course this more apt to be in a fully loaded Ford Explorer with HEMI or Lincoln Navigator with tinted windows and gold, mud flaps then a sleigh. With Atlanta traffic a poor horse and sleigh wouldn't even stand a chance.

In America, the holidays usually mean celebrating Christmas, Hanukkah or Kwanzaa. Some households celebrate Christmas and Hanukkah, others Christmas and Kwanzaa. Christmas a one day event, has long been associated with the birth of the baby Jesus and the wise men, while Hanukkah, a Jewish holiday is celebrated for eight nights and days. One of its traditions is the lighting of the menorah, a candle that is lit each evening during the eight days of the holiday.

Kwanzaa, a non-religious African American holiday began in1966 as a way to bring African Americans together as a community, or culture with story telling, food, music and dancing. Like Hanukkah, one of its traditions involves lighting a kinara, (a candle) on each of the seven days during this period. Although each have different origins, the common thread is more about heritage, about community, about family, then simply the sights and sounds of the season.

While these traditions are fully documented, I am not sure where the tradition of decking the halls, walls and everything else came from.  Since that first time that it stuck me I quit stringing boughs of holly (that stuff hurts). However I do have my own traditions. 

The twin wreaths will go up on the twin doors that lead into my home. Red bows with adorn everything that I think can use cheering up by their scarlet brilliance. The kitties will probably run again and hide like they do when they see me coming with the glow of Christmas in my eye, or a can of spray paint.

The Damask tablecloth that graced our table every holiday when my sister and I were growing up is pressed and ready to grace mine. Its peach color now faded from years of laundering, much like my rapidly fading memories of youth. Running my hands lovingly on it, smoothing it on the table, I am reminded of my mother who passed over sixteen years ago, but whose love of family and tradition lives on in me.

Once again I will haul out the artificial tree my husband and I bought our first Christmas over 31 years ago. Two, young soldiers, after setting up our household, we only had enough money left over to buy a tree. Ornaments old and new will hide places where branches once were, a testament much like our love and marriage, perhaps a little worn around the edges from life's challenges, yet steadfastly holding on.

While our beliefs may differ, our individual traditions live on. Mouths will water at the smell of roasting turkey, while others will wait impatiently for the fried one to cool down; a wonderful mix of old and new. Surrounded by loved ones we will watch Miracle on 34th Street, It's A wonderful Life, and Snoopy getting ' jiggy with it' again for the umpteenth time. Alas, as you embrace old traditions or make new ones, may you enjoy peace on earth and good will this season, and always.