A Jen Too Many

Once a year, sometime in December before Christmas, The Love of My Life will go out on his day off to fill up the car and come home with chocolate covered cherries. He gets one for each member of the family and hands them out when he gets home, tossing them to each of us, sometimes playing guessing games before handing us our candy.

It's the only time he ever buys those, and the only time we ever eat them. I didn't realize until today, though, when he was standing in front of me, saying, "Pick a hand!", that it's become a tradition for us. (I picked the wrong hand, but he gave me my candy anyway.)

It's not a big deal. It's not something we've ever even talked about. It's not part of our plans when we discuss Christmas. And yet, when I realized he'd brought the candy home, a small voice inside me said, "Oh, good, that part of Christmas is taken care of now."

It's just a quiet little thing, and yet, it's funny how important a part of Christmas this has become to me. A little affectionate gesture that helps to bind our family together, perhaps more important than the bigger traditions precisely because of how small and quiet it is. And, I can't help thinking - how typical that this kind of tradition originated with him. I tend to think of the bigger, flashier things-to-do and rope everyone into participating. He just goes out and does his thing, quietly and efficiently, not making a big deal about it, but bringing all the more meaning to it because of that.