The Treasures of Tradition (Christmas 2007)

            Life continues to surprise me.  I was lamenting that with the recent passing of my mother, a welcomed tradition that she continued every year would no longer be a part of my holiday season.  And, then, this past week I had not just one, but two moments of glee that proved otherwise.

It seems everyone has a family tradition of some kind.  The other day while pushing my cart through the Shop Rite parking lot, I happened upon two ladies, Jodie and Linda, rearranging a box in the trunk of their car.  We got to chatting about their family traditions, and if they had any.  I learned that both of them had the tradition of going as a family to Christmas Eve church service, or mass, and then coming home and opening presents.

I remember the tradition my Grandmother Marie had of baking a mincemeat pie each year for the holidays.  Although, Grandma “Ree” only baked one, in the 11h Century, it was thought lucky to eat one mince pie on each of the twelve days of Christmas (ending with Epiphany, the 6th of January).  While I’ve never experienced that culinary indulgence, I have carried on my grandmother’s tradition with my own family.  However, that was one tradition I suspect they would not have missed had I let it slip bythe way side. 

Still, thinking you must have a mincemeat pie at some point during the holiday season, I offered to make one for the Christmas Day gathering of family and friends I’d been invited to.  The hostess wrinkled her nose up while simultaneously shaking her head and indicating an emphatic “no” on the mincemeat pie.  Cookies would be welcome, though, the hostess quipped. 

My mom’s passing signaled the end of her Christmas tradition of sending my sister and me a loaf of Stollen from Reimer's Candies, in Three Rivers California.  Each year, in late November, she would drive with Beverly Brown, her cousin, to the little red Gingerbread house candy store with white trim and old world charm located just miles from the gateway to Sequoia National Park, and order the sweet yeast German Christmas bread.  And then, in the early days of December, UPS would ring my doorbell with the delivery of a box with Reimer’s in red script on the side and a loaf of beautifully wrapped Stollen inside.

            And, now, the festivity of experiencing that delightful ritual and then phoning mom with my exuberant thanks would be no more. 

It’s a small thing, yes.  It’s only a loaf of German bread full of calories, but it was mom’s gesture of love that I knew I’d miss most.  My friend, Joan, mentioned she would also miss mom’s kindness.  Each year I would wait to open it until Joan could join me for our traditional cutting of the stolen and afternoon tea to steal away from the holiday stress.

Thus, I decided to start a new tradition.  I’d bake my own loaf of stolen.  Finding the rum was no problem but locating dried currants and ground cardamon proved more intense.  After several stops at different stores I located all the ingredients and placed them in a basket.  Finding a window of time to spend in the kitchen making and baking Stollen, which I’d never done before, became more challenging than anticipated. 

With the passing of the days, frustration set in.  I knew that typically, you make Stollen early in the season and now Christmas Eve was just a week away.  Where was I going to find the time?  That’s when kindness landed on my doorstep.

While dashing in from errands one afternoon, I came home to find the familiar Reimer’s box with the red script on the side, lying on my doorstep.  My heart leapt.  Had mom left a standing order at Reimer's, the candy store where she ordered the Stollen?  No, that’s ridiculous wishful thinking! 

Picking up the box and darting inside to rip it open, I discovered that Beverly, my mom's cousin, who knew about her tradition, sent the Stollen.  This Christmas season was turning out to be better than I thought it would be. 

Amazingly, the very next day, I found another Reimer’s box on my doorstep.  This time, the Stollen was sent from my daughter, Aimee, in Bozeman, Montana.  She knew about her grandmother’s tradition and how I’d ordered a loaf to be sent to my sister in Boulder, Colorado, as I knew she felt as I did about missing mom’s tradition.

This may not be the year for making my first loaf of Stollen but for sure, it is the year of treasured traditions and of rolling in Stollen.

            Wishing you and your family a happy holiday season and a happy and healthy new year!