I like story telling. I even like to tell stories. This is one of my favorite things about Christmas time and my grandmother. After church on Christmas morning we go to her house. There after numerous hugs and hellos, I go to the kitchen where fragrant aromas find their way to my nose. Here is where we talk of present day things such as my aunt’s job as a teacher or my other aunt’s job as a government worker.
The real stories, however, don’t start until we are all seated over macaroni and cheese, greens and other foods we eat on Christmas. As I eye certain of slice of ham, I hear my dad start another one of his stories. He has many, but my favorite is his story of his train. My dad has a train which he had as a boy that still runs. He always says, “I remember when it used to toot too.” On this train are many boxcars and wagons. The train runs on a track that we put around the Christmas tree.
He even says once he used to put powder in a certain chamber and it would smoke as a real train would. As my dad has a serious character, it’s unusual to see him talk about childhood days. His face has a look of being a 10 year – old with lots of anticipation on it. All of this is significant to my family because it has become a family tradition.
Even though my grandfather and several other relatives have passed on, this tradition is still in my family.
