Navigating purposefully through the contradictions of holy and harried, steering my family toward the truest meaning of the Christmas season has been a challenging and rewarding experience since the establishment of our household in 1986. The founding of a family presents the opportunity of melding unique traditions from respective families, carrying on the duty of telling future generations who we are and why we do what we do. One definition of tradition is “the handing down of information, beliefs, and customs by word of mouth or by example from one generation to another without written instruction.” For more than two decades, I’ve had the joy and privilege of writing traditions on the hearts of my precious family. I’ve been blessed with a life long enough to learn which traditions my husband and grown sons hold most dear, the ones likely to be inscribed on the hearts of generations to come.

The Christmas holiday season at the Amiot household begins softly with music. One day after New Year’s, the last item packed in what we call “the Christmas closet” is a little white box decorated with silver Christmas trees with red and green ornaments, each topped with a star. The box’s original purpose was to hold photographs, but its dimensions were well suited to house my family’s Christmas CD collection.

The last in line order is intentional so that the first note of our holiday season is “Still Nacht,” a musically mystical version of “Silent Night” by Mannheim Steamroller. The composition is unaccompanied by lyrics, a fitting reminder to be still before the Lord, to let our spirits resist the commercial cacophony which has such potential to bring stress and detract from the ideal of a peaceful celebration of the birth of Christ.

My husband brought to our marriage his faith expressed in Roman Catholicism and as such, attending Christmas Mass is the apex of the season for him, the gathering together of his family to celebrate “The Nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ” with the larger church community. However, we aren’t so legalistic that we don’t enjoy a number of non-religious aspects of the holiday season, traditions handed to us from our parents, some so indelibly written on generations of hearts, we hadn’t stopped to consider their genesis. 

English immigrants brought Christmas carols, Christmas greeting cards, and the seasonal décor of evergreens. The Germans held on to their holiday heritage by decorating freshly cut trees with candy and nuts.

Various forms of these religious, secular and cultural traditions found their way to our home along with the subtle delight of starting traditions of our own.

As I spoke with each member of my family individually about the holiday traditions they cherished most, I was amused all three mentioned the breakfast casserole, convincing testimony that the way to a man’s hearts truly is his stomach.  Coming from a long line of Southern women, I was taught it is perfectly acceptable to love my family with food, and as a young wife and mom, I set out to create a memorable Christmas breakfast not comprised of Cheerios.

The dish is prepared the night before, ready to place in the oven to bake while we open our Christmas presents. The casserole even found its way into a personal journal, this entry written in 2005:

“Our family is past the stage of getting up at the crack of dawn to play with toys. My guys are all sleeping in. Surely, they will all be under our roof many more Christmases. Uncle Jay used to travel across the nation to be with Grannie at Christmas.



If I regard each moment as what it is, a passage of time that can never be ‘touched’ again, I will love my present gratefully, thankfully, and joyfully so that when I look back and behold snippets of memory, there will be satisfaction, smiles of warmth and happiness over moments of a life well-lived.

The oven is warming, the breakfast casserole will soon go in … will the aroma of eggs, sausage and cheese melting rouse the men? It cooks for 45 minutes so their slumber is safe for awhile.” 





Sausage-Cheese Breakfast Casserole

Ingredients

• 6 slices bread, crust removed

• Butter, softened

• 1 pound bulk sausage, browned, crumbled and drained

• 1 cup shredded cheddar cheese (I use sharp.)

• 6 eggs, beaten

• 2 cups milk

• 1 teaspoon salt

Directions

Spread butter evenly on bread and place in greased

9 x 13 baking dish. Spread browned sausage over bread slices, then sprinkle with cheese. Combine eggs, milk and salt and pour over top. Cover and refrigerate overnight. Bake uncovered at 350 degrees for 45

minutes. Serves 8.





This dish is prepared on Christmas Eve after we dive into our stockings.

My childhood family opened presents on Christmas Eve out of necessity because my mother, a nurse, was often scheduled to work on Christmas Day. My husband’s family opened presents on Christmas morning. To accommodate the longing etched on my heart to observe Christmas Eve in a special way, we dig into our stockings for Christmas goodies, drink hot chocolate, then watch a Christmas-themed movie. 

My heart was warmed when my 21-year-old son spoke of this family tradition as meaningful to him: “That’s always cool, I guess.”

For now I interpret “cool” as a cherished tradition in his heart.

Indeed the contents of the stocking have become a tradition, adhering to a little formula rhyme — something to eat, something to read, something to play with and something you need. My sons have started their own tradition of feigning surprise over boxer shorts, food gift cards from area restaurants and handfuls of their favorite candy.

Another tradition in its infancy at our household is the inclusion of girlfriends on Christmas Eve, and I confess it is a refreshing change and much fun shopping for stocking stuffers for females. My sons are given an assignment to inconspicuously discover a young woman’s favorite candy, and I admire secretly their spirit of the season, the willingness to think of what will bring happiness to another.

When my sons were very young, it was important to me and my husband to introduce them to the love of Christ, and one way we incorporated both religious and secular was to tell them how wonderfully generous Jesus is. It’s His birthday, and we get the presents!

We spoke of miraculous and mysterious — angels appearing to shepherds in the night sky announcing the birth of Christ, a star in the sky guiding gift-bearing Magi to the barnyard bedside of Mary and Joseph’s infant, Immanuel, God with us.

Gold, frankincense and myrrh were a gracious plenty for the Christ and the springboard for the idea of three gifts for each of our children in an effort to stem greed and teach the children that nothing in this world brings permanent satisfaction, only the love of God endures.

In retrospect, the simplicity of our celebrations served to prepare my family for potentially dismal economic times. Rituals and traditions can serve as sustenance in hard times, preserving a sense of family when all else seems to be coming apart at the seams. One of the purposes of tradition is to strengthen a family spiritually.

In a book I have often referred to for ideas in celebrating holidays throughout the year, “Mrs. Sharp’s Traditions, Reviving Victorian Family Celebrations of Comfort and Joy,” the fictional Mrs. Sharp asks, “What can I do to cultivate the virtues of a simpler way of life, insulated from the commercialism, trends, and fads that bombard us at every turn? And finally, can one truly create a lifestyle that nourishes, sustains, and brings joy to all the members of our family, as it knits us closer together in love?”

These questions deserve thought during the Christmas holiday season and throughout the year.

Some traditions, by nature, involve a bit of extra work and preparation, and that is where the harried can intrude on the holy. Menus must be planned, ham, sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, biscuit bread and red velvet cake, breakfast casserole and fruit salad for Christmas brunch, hot chocolate during stocking time. Our homes must be decorated and the presents wrapped.

Mary pondered the miraculous in her heart. She was the vessel God chose to enter this world in flesh.

We, too, need to slow down, to think, consider and reflect during the Christmas season. There is meaning behind all we do as we pass on and create reassuringly familiar traditions that connect and strengthen the bond of generations. May we carry out our traditions in a way that anyone whose life we have been privileged to touch will have a desire birthed within them to bring our love, our very selves, forward to future generations.

Have a blessed Christmas and a happy, holy and prosperous New Year.