Every family has their own unique blend of Christmas traditions, from warm and wonderful gatherings with friends old and new, to trimming the tree, making holiday treats and of course consuming the turkey dinner that always manages to taste better at Christmas than any other time of the year. And we carry these traditions with us over our lifetime until all that remains is a shawl of festive memories we carefully put away with the decorations each year to be retrieved when the season comes 'round again! And with every year that passes I take out my precious shawl of memories and wrap it snugly around my shoulders. It’s crafted from a beautiful fabric woven out of a unique blend of joy and sadness, two emotions that for most of us seem to be in continuous conflict during the season of joy. I grew up in Stephenville, on the west coast, and our big happy family was blessed with lots of relatives and friends! We were a family of seven children and although times weren’t always good, Mom and Dad did the best they could with what they had and I don’t have a single Christmas memory that isn’t filled with an abundance of love and happiness! I remember when I was very small one of our annual Christmas traditions was the trek to church for midnight mass on Christmas Eve. Of course it was the last place children wanted to be while awaiting Santa Claus! But looking back, I realize that Mom and Dad wanted to be sure we were good and tired so we’d sleep past four a.m. on Christmas morning. By the time mass began, it would be wall-to-wall people with standing room only at the back of the church for those who arrived late. Mom and Dad would squeeze all seven of us between them in the pew, and the fun would begin! We didn’t much care for the smell of alcohol in the church that was enough to knock a horse out cold! It permeated the warm stuffy air and hung like a cloud over the crowded pews, but everyone was in a good mood and hilarious stuff began to happen as the service progressed. More than a few times during mass, Mom would reach across us and give Dad a poke in the ribs for snoring, and with a grunt he’d sit up as fast as he could! We’d giggle while she gave us what she thought was a stern look. And a few minutes later, he’d be snoring again and we’d be fairly bursting to laugh out loud. Now the lateness of the hour might suggest the children would be the ones falling asleep. But that wasn’t the case at all, and we spent our time looking around to see which man was going to get the next poke when his missus caught him snoozing. As well, it goes without saying the conscious mind can most often execute a quiet, albeit unwelcome, bodily emission, but when a person falls asleep they are at the mercy of the dreaded flatulence sprite! And that was another source of entertainment for us during mass. One minute there’d be the sound of snoring and the next a rather loud reverberation upon the hard wooden pew that sent us into yet another fit of giggles. By the time mass was over, we were tired and looking forward to visions of sugarplums dancing in our heads! But we excitedly anticipated the drive home. And that drive home was pure magic! Especially if it was a clear night and the moon made the snow glisten like a million diamonds! Eyes filled with wonder, we’d watch the rooftops because Mom said if we looked carefully we just might see old Saint Nick! And I swear there were times I was sure I did! Many years have come and gone, and most of the old familiar traditions have faded like the tinsel we decorated our tree with year after year until it practically disintegrated. All I have left now is my priceless shawl of memories and it brings me the greatest joy. Mom and Dad look down from the stars on Christmas Eve now, and there’s a powerful ache in my heart for those days when they were here. But if I’m out late, and the moon is shining brightly on the most peaceful night of the year, I still find myself searching the rooftops and the sky for a glimpse of the magic Mom said I’d find if I looked carefully enough.   Submitted By: Nancy Crossman