My older brothers had a favorite Christmas tradition. They used to save up the cardboard tubes from rolls of wrapping paper and whap me with them Christmas Eve until my mother made them stop.
Through the years, our Christmas traditions became less violent. They involved sleeping under the Christmas tree, watching Star Wars, making Norwegian lefsa and cramming our house with relatives on Christmas Eve to eat too much and retell stories of Christmas past.
Around the world, holiday traditions vary.
In Caracas, Venezuela, it is customary for the entire city to roller-skate to early morning Christmas mass. There are so many roller skaters, that the city is blocked off in many areas before 8 a.m.
In Germany, children leave a boot or shoe outside their bedroom door. If they've been good little children like I was, a tree branch covered in sweets will be their reward. If they have misbehaved-like my brothers-they will receive just a tree branch.
In Slovakia, the eldest man in the house takes a spoonful of loksa pudding and throws it at the ceiling–the more it sticks, the better.
In Japan, thanks to the power of advertising, it is traditional to eat a KFC Chicken dinner on Christmas Eve. This often requires celebrants ordering weeks in advance or waiting in line for hours.
In Bavaria, highlanders don the traditional costume of lederhosen and fire mortars into the air.
Greenlanders eat mattak, a raw whale skin served with blubber, and kiviak, a yummy seal skin stuffed with dead auk birds and then buried and left to ferment for three months. Auk is right. I think a Scotsman tried to introduce haggis (a sheep organ pudding) to them, but couldn't recall the recipe.
On Christmas in Estonia, families head to the sauna, Swedes watch Donald Duck cartoons, and Canadians can mail a letter to Santa at North Pole, Canada, H0H 0H0. It will be recognized by Canada Post, opened and replied to. Likely within two years.
On Christmas Eve, North American kids are told that Santa rides a sleigh pulled by eight reindeer, but he switches over to a kangaroo in Australia, paddles a canoe in Hawaii, gallops on a horse through the Netherlands, clumps by donkey in Switzerland, and is dropped from heaven on a golden cord into the Czech Republic. Some native American tribes have their own version of Santa Claus. Hobbythacco, or "The Handsome Fellow," is a friendly brave who wears white buckskins and brings gifts to native children at Christmas time.
Well, I suppose traditions give us a sense of comfort, of belonging, and they bring back memories. For many, that's all Christmas is. A tradition. A ripe jolly old elf, some reindeer, and overdosing on presents. Christmas hymns stir warm memories as we shop, but the lyrics are largely ignored. The child in a manger makes a nice ornament, but too many live as if He never lived. But He did. And He's alive today. When Jesus was born in that manger, a light shone on our dark world that never has and never will be extinguished. When Jesus was born, so was hope. "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes on Him will not perish but have everlasting life."
"Joy to the world, the Lord has come." Wherever you are and whatever you eat, a very merry Christmas. Now I'd better run. My brothers are coming over, and I've been collecting those little cardboard wrapping paper tubes. Let the whapping begin.
Phil Callaway is a speaker, best-selling author, and host of Laugh Again Radio. Check it out at philcallaway.com
