It is 51˚. The sun is winter bright. The privacy of summer is gone. The trees are so bare I can see the neighbors’ houses and they mine. A breeze chills rather than cools the air. Old Man Winter may not be here quite yet, but there are signs that he’s waiting impatiently in the wings.

When I was a kid, I always wanted a white Christmas because of Santa. I never saw him pictured flying over houses with green lawns. He always traveled in the snow. Reindeer too belonged in the snow. They lived way up north in the Arctic Circle, and any picture I had ever seen of the Arctic Circle always had snow. I remember Eskimos wearing jackets and thick mittens covered with fur when they harnessed their dogs to their sleds. Christmas needed snow.

We had a nativity set made of chalkware. It had all the necessary figures: kings, shepherds, animals including a donkey and a couple of sheep, Mary, Joseph and the Baby. The stable was wooden and had pieces of hay around as if real animals lived there. Over the years the chalkware chipped. Shepherds were missing noses and just about every other piece had a chip or two. It never mattered. Out came that nativity set every year. I remember the Baby had outstretched arms and was sleeping on what appeared to be swaddling clothes though I didn’t know what swaddling meant until I was a little older. My sister has that set now.

 I always think each new Christmas stays connected to all the other Christmases of our past. My mother made decorated sugar cookies and so do we. I even use some of the cookie cutters she had. If I make a pie, it will be lemon meringue, not usually a Christmas pie, but it was one we all loved so my mother made it. I put old ornaments on the tree and one of those old big ones way up high because that’s where my mother would hang it for safety’s sake.

Christmas is wrapped up in family. Traditions are passed down from one generation to another and along the way new traditions are added. They connect us across the years. In every Christmas I see my mother. That is one of the joys of the season.