So here we are in the month of December, and tomorrow being the feast of St. Nicholas, I was reminiscing about what this day meant to me growing up. Eastern Europeans and their ancestors celebrate this saint’s feast day in a variety of ways. (I read a newsclip about a parade in the Czech Republic where revelers dress as devils and white death creatures frighten them, while St. Nicholas gives children sweets. Not the St. Nick’s traditions I remember.)
In my house, when the morning of December 6th dawned, I awoke to my stocking filled with candy, small gifts, and an orange or an apple. In the evening, I cajoled my older sisters into letting me open just one small present from under the tree. After they gave in, I ripped off the paper to find a toy that would tide me over until Christmas morning. And so it went until we all outgrew these small traditions. But I never forgot that feeling and carried on the tradition after I became a parent.
My three children are now all grown ups, yet I still make sure to fill their stockings with candy, gifts, and a surprise on St. Nick’s Day. It just feels right. Happy Holidays!
margaret.r.zotkiewicz 