With each passing year all my memories of Christmas are blending into one. It seems as if I remember the best things from each year’s celebration and it is merged into one sweet memory. I remember the fragrance of freshly scraped wooden. I can distinctly smell the carp frying in the kitchen of my childhood and the fish soup on the stove. I can almost clearly see the white linens on the table and tree getting decorated on the Eve of Christmas. There was the music, traditional carols in the background and the excitement of waiting. As a child, I waited for the first star to appear in the sky, a sign it was time to start the feast. The guests were arriving and we each found our place at the table loaden with carefully prepared and selected delicacies. There was also anticipation of gifts as these were waiting under the tree.
As I reminisce I am flooded with memories of childhood. I remember when I got my first tape recorder, or when I broke one of my favorite ornaments. I still miss it, it was a blue and white glass car. I also miss the ornaments of my childhood that are now with my parents. Oh, yes, I wish I was there, that we could magically transfer my family there so we could be reunited for that wonderful evening. But instead, I am creating delightful memories for my children, in the country that is their own and that will always feel safe and secure for them. I am forging their meaningful moments with special traditions that are going to be important to them.