On Christmas Eve, we have dinner. But not just any dinner. Everyone gets to have whatever they want. Whatever they want. Anything at all. My brother had a Big Mac Meal for years. I usually have my mom’s New England clam chowder.
After dinner, we attend a church service, even though our church doesn’t hold Christmas Eve services. We change up the denomination each year, but we tend to favorite the Methodist’s candlelight service. When we get home we open our Christmas pajamas. Then those who choose to change into them.
And finally comes my favorite part. With hot chocolate and Scottish short bread served all around, the literary aspect of the evening begins. First, it’s the Christmas story from Luke Chapter 2. Then my grandma gets out The Polar Express, by Chris Van Allsburg. She reads it to us all as if we were children – even though the youngest among us are in our twenties. She uses different voices for each of the characters. She turns the book around and pans it, so we can all see the pictures. After that it’s off to bed, with visions of sugar plums dancing in our heads.
What do you do on Christmas Eve?