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Due to my husband's job, we always lived far from family. We went "home" for Christmas once and it was a disaster. Our parents lived in two different states which are hundreds of miles apart. It was a lose-lose situation for us.

After that we decided we would celebrate Christmas at our home and anyone who wanted to join us was welcome. I thought about traditions I wanted to pass on and ones I wanted to start. One of my priorities was to keep Santa and Jesus separate. I wanted no confusion about who brought what gifts.

We decided to celebrate the birth of Christ on Christmas Eve and the arrival of Santa Claus on Christmas morning. So, Christmas Eve became a celebration centered around our church. The kids participated in the Christmas Pageant. They all started out as shepherds, progressed to angels or animals, and then either a member of the Holy Family or one of the Magi. I cherish the memory of my daughter crawling up the aisle in a donkey costume.

The kids were acolytes as they got older and we were all in the bell choir for a number of years. So, dinner had to be simple but festive. Since we were having a birthday party pizza seemed the obvious choice. We'd have pizza while getting into costumes or suits and fancy dresses. When the kids were little, we would go to church after pizza. When we got home, we had birthday cake and a party. We sang Happy Birthday to Baby Jesus and opened gifts that He had left for us. They were always beautiful ornaments.

Then it was time to get ready for bed so Santa could come. The bedtime story was always the traditional Nativity Story from Luke preferably the King James version.

One year as we were leaving church our son Tim was walking next to our Rector's wife. He told her that when we got home we were going to have a birthday party. "Ooh," she said, "That sounds like fun. Who's birthday is it?" Tim turned to me with a questioning look on his face. I nodded. He looked at Mrs. Hynson and said, "It's Baby Jesus' birthday." She turned bright red and looked at me and mouthed, "Oooops!"

Even when the kids came home from college, they expected pizza and birthday cake for dinner on Christmas Eve along with a gift from Baby Jesus, singing Happy Birthday, and Luke's account of that wonderful night so long ago.

The "kids" are now in their 30s and one has a child of her own. They have carried on the tradition begun when they were young. And when they come home for Christmas, I better have pizza, a birthday cake, and gifts from Baby Jesus. Even our Jewish son-in-law looks forward to the birthday party.

On the rare occasions when everyone is home for Christmas, I love to sit in the living room watching them decorating the tree while eating pizza. They laugh about Christmas's past. And when the pizza is gone, they get the cake and light the candle and we all sing Happy Birthday. Then the gifts from the Baby Jesus are handed out and they hang them on the tree.

I remember Christmas Eve when they were small and I smile. They may be adults but on Christmas Eve they are children enjoying a tradition repeated over and over every December 24th.

Learn more about this author, Vicki Brown.
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