Family: Traditions and Celebrations Throughout the Year

By Sheila Kovach

All families have traditions and celebrations. There are no rules about how your family should celebrate holidays or special events throughout the year. Families are for making memories and for sharing stories and history. Each family is different and yet so very special. Yours is different than mine.

Our inner circle is the family we choose. Whether it is your church family, your work family, your neighborhood family, your interest group family, or the family of friends with whom you share common bonds. We make families throughout our lives.

This collection of thirty-eight short stories is about every kind of family, sharing moments throughout the year. Special days, special times, and special circumstances for special people like your family, all families, all year long.

Enjoy spending time with family.

******

Fans of the Chicken Soup for the Soul series and A Prairie Home Companion will enjoy Sheila Kovach's homespun stories about holidays and special events highlighting the importance of family, friends, community, and faith. These heartwarming tales set in Kovach's beloved home state of Wyoming resonate with regional and familial pride, and lessons that will stay with readers long after they close the pages.

--Mary Vensel White, author of Starling, Bellflower, and The Qualities of Wood

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9798887514710

Book preview

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Family

Traditions and Celebrations Throughout the Year

Sheila Kovach

ISBN 979-8-88751-470-3 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88751-471-0 (digital)

Copyright © 2022 by Sheila Kovach

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

To the first family I had: my parents, stepparents, grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, and siblings. There were six Schmoock children: Brenda, Larry, Sheila, Kathy, Lonna, and Mike. Thank you all for the memories.

January

New Year's Day

Martin Luther King Jr. Day

February

Super Bowl

Valentine's Day

Presidents' Day

March

St. Patrick's Day

Ash Wednesday

April

April Fools' Day

Maundy Thursday

Good Friday

Easter

May

May Day

Mothers' Day

Vacation

Memorial Day

June

Graduation

Amusement Park

Anniversary

Fathers' Day

July

Fourth of July

Rodeo

Weekend Camping Trip

State Fair

August

Birthday

Wedding

Family Reunion

September

Labor Day

Grandparents' Day

Football

October

Hunting Camp

Columbus Day

Oktoberfest

Halloween

November

Veterans Day

Thanksgiving

December

Christmas Eve

Christmas

New Year's Eve

About the Author

To the first family I had: my parents, stepparents, grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, and siblings. There were six Schmoock children: Brenda, Larry, Sheila, Kathy, Lonna, and Mike. Thank you all for the memories.

January

New Year's Day

Almost everyone wants to start off the new year with a new beginning, to work toward having a better year than the previous one. With good intentions and effort, at the end of a completed year, someone could look back and see how far they had made their hopes, dreams, and desires come true.

This year, New Year's Day was filled with hope and expectation as the family's son and brother was returning to the States from the overseas airbase where he had been stationed. He had been gone for two years, and the family was anxious to have him home for the long-awaited visit.

They had delayed celebrating Christmas until he could share in the festivities. Looking forward to being together again, everyone was excited and on a natural high to spend time with their son and brother. They would have so much to talk about as they wanted to hear about everything their son and brother had seen and done while he'd been stationed overseas. They would enjoy opening gifts and eating traditional holiday food. Later in the day, they would sing the age-old songs together, watch classic Christmas movies, and look through the mountain of photos the young serviceman had taken. With all the snow that had fallen, they would have their usual family snowball fight.

Early in the fall, they had been told that he would not be home for Christmas but would fly into Salt Lake City, Utah, on January first. After much planning, the family was completely ready for the new year to begin with the arrival of their son and brother. However, Mother Nature can be unpredictable, and she shook her snowy head at everyone's plans. The flying world came to a standstill. What was supposed to be an early arrival was postponed until later in the day. Snowplows cleared runways, and airplanes waiting for better weather were parked in rows at this busy airport.

The family had to travel on snowy, ice-encrusted roadways. They were patient as roads were cleared. Ever so very carefully, they made their way to the airport. Once there, they had a very long day of waiting. Many servicemen milled around, all hoping their family and friends would be able to make it through the storm to pick them up.

There were many people and much activity in the airport this day. People of every nationality and age were milling around like a beehive of people. The sounds of conversation, babies crying, the loudspeakers making announcements, and the luggage being dragged over the walking escalators were a hearing hodgepodge of noise.

Walking up to the vending machine to get a snack, the father of the family met a young serviceman and asked where he had arrived from and where he was headed. They talked a while, and later in the conversation, the young man said he was waiting for family to pick him up but was unsure if they'd be able to make it. His family would be traveling from Wyoming, and the weather reports showed the roads were closed. He was unsure if his family would be able to get to Salt Lake City before nightfall. He had been away from home for several years and was looking forward to seeing them.

Parting with words of encouragement, the father wished him well and returned to his family. The family then continued to wait as they knew their son's flight was coming in later that day.

As the day dragged on, fewer and fewer servicemen milled around the airport, as most of them had found their friends or family and were happily escorted out to waiting cars for trips to their homes. Late that afternoon, the last flight landed. The family celebrated the safe return of their son and brother. He was finally home with them. Seeing his face brought tears of happiness to the waiting family, and it was a joyous reunion. As they made their way to the luggage carousel, the father noticed the young serviceman still waiting, and he felt badly for him.

As the family made their way to their parked car, the whole world outside was a winter wonderland. Snow was piled everywhere, and airport workers were busy as a beehive, plowing and shoveling the walkways and roads.

With everyone settled into the car and conversation flowing, they began the trip home. They didn't have to travel far. Soon, they arrived at a snowy driveway that would have to be shoveled before they could get the car into the garage. Everyone pitched in, and before too long, the driveway and walkways were shoveled, with ice-melt scattered to prevent slick spots.

Entering the house, the young serviceman was greeted by the beauty of the holidays as the house was decorated for Christmas from floor to ceiling. The tree glowed with gold and red ornaments, and the angel hair draped from the branches shimmered in the lights and looked like Santa's beard. Underneath, presents were piled high, wrapped beautifully with paper and bows carefully done. Each package was a work of art. There was the nativity display on the mantle, and the wreath above was his favorite, as it was made from intertwined willow twigs, holly, and berries. Peeking through the vines were little snowbirds, nestled in the small spaces. It looked like the birds were trying to stay warm. Each year when he saw the wreath, he had this same thought.

Every table or shelf in the house displayed some sort of Christmas decoration. There were snowmen and angels, Victorian carolers, and elves with reindeer. He was extremely happy to be home and delighted to see they had waited to celebrate the holiday. Wonderful smells of cooking greeted their noses, and his mother fluttered around the kitchen finishing up a meal she had started cooking early that morning. The slow-simmering ham was overdone after the long wait at the airport, but there would be no complaints. This family didn't care what they would eat, as long as they would be together.

The father worried about the young serviceman still at the airport. He wondered if the young man's family had arrived, and he thought how lonely it would be for the young man to be alone all day and through the night due to Mother Nature and her winter dumping of snow. The ski resorts love it, but the airport, not so much.

Taking his wife aside, he asked if it would be okay to hold off dinner for a while longer as he wanted to return to the airport and see if he could bring the young man to the house to share the lovely meal. The wife was a good and generous person and agreed to this. She suggested they offer their home for the night's stay to the young serviceman. In agreement, the father asked his son to accompany him to the airport. The son agreed, eager to help out a fellow enlisted man. With hugs and kisses, they left for the trip back to the airport with high hopes they would be able to bring the serviceman back for a great meal and comfortable bed for the night.

At the airport, few cars were in the parking lot, and they were able to find a spot to park the car pretty easily. Inside, they searched the lower floor and couldn't find the young man anywhere by the luggage carousels. Finally, they found him in one of the waiting areas, splayed out across three seats. The serviceman looked up, surprised. The father and son sat down, explaining why they had returned. The serviceman listened in amazement, not believing they had cared enough to come back. With tears in his eyes, he told them they were the salt of the earth. He had never had anyone make an effort to help him when he needed it, he said. He was expecting to spend the night at the airport and had settled his mind to it. This unexpected surprise was beyond his imagination. He told them he was thankful and grateful.

Returning to the car, they loaded his luggage in and set out for the family's home. The roads were still being cleared, and, in the darkness, the lights of the city reflected from the shimmery snow. The ride was magical to the young serviceman, as this winter wonderland was completely different from the quiet, rural part of Wyoming where he had grown up. The conversation flowed like wine between the three men. The young man was likeable and had a very funny sense of humor. The servicemen made an instant attachment, and it seemed they would get along well.

The father drove slowly due to the slick roads and was ever mindful watching the traffic. Suddenly, a fast-moving car ahead of them did a loop-de-loo and crashed into the snowbank next to the roadway. The father pulled over, and the three men got out to see if everyone was all right.

The two young women in the car were unhurt. They were in their early twenties and wore a lot of makeup and costume jewelry but hardly any winter clothing. They didn't have gloves or boots, and they had no means to dig their car out of the snowbank. The three men went to work and dug out the wheels, and then pulled the car back onto the roadway using a tow rope the father kept in the trunk. The girls continued to thank them from the bottom of their hearts. The father told the girls to slow down and that they were lucky they hadn't run into oncoming traffic. He also told them that they should dress for the weather in the future, and they both agreed that they would heed his advice. Shook up and shivering from the cold, the girls promised to drive more carefully. They thanked them again for helping them.

Back in the vehicle, the young serviceman told the father it was a very nice thing to stop and help the girls. Being nice costs nothing, the father said, but many enjoy the results. The young man nodded, thinking what a kind and generous soul the father was. He seemed to help everyone.

As they pulled into the driveway, the serviceman saw that the family was waiting in front of the large window at the front of the house. It was the welcome home he hadn't had at the airport, and his heart soared as he felt the happiness from this family.

They had a wonderful evening. Great food, a few drinks, and the celebration of a belated Christmas. The young serviceman felt a closeness to this family of new friends and enjoyed being with them. He had nothing to offer them, but they wouldn't have taken anything if he had offered. What had started out as a very depressing and lonely day had finished with a joyful celebration with new friends he felt would be friends for the rest of his life. It was a new day, new year, with new friendships and a new way of thinking and helping others. The example set this New Year's Day would be his new tradition to help as many others as possible to begin a legacy of giving back.

After a good and needed night's sleep and a hearty breakfast of biscuits and gravy, bacon sliced thick and drizzled with maple syrup, and plenty of coffee and orange juice, the father and son set out to take the young serviceman back to the airport, where he'd await his family. The roads that had been closed the previous day were now cleared for travel. They talked about the silly girls they had helped the night before when they passed the spot where they had pulled them free from the snowbank.

At the airport, the serviceman unloaded his luggage and thanked the men over and over for their kindness and for helping him when he least expected anyone to care. With hugs and handshakes, he returned to the terminal and looked back only to see his new friends leaving. He felt strongly he would see them again.

Years later when he thinks back to that night, he remembers the friendship connections he had made that New Year's Day and one very special one. The college-aged daughter home on Christmas break was very attractive and easy to talk to. They had connected, and during their talk, he had asked her if he could call her, if she would give him her phone number. She seemed pleased he would ask her and eagerly gave the number to him. She encouraged him to call her real soon.

Who knew, he often thought, that the Lord was at work in a mysterious way. Now, he and his wife would laugh every year, knowing that truth is stranger than fiction. The beginning of their story was that New Year's Day, with the snow and the airport. Maybe it was meant to be, a lonely boy missing his family and a new family walking into his life. It turned out to be the most memorable New Year's Day in his life and the beginning of a new life with the family he met and became a part of.

Martin Luther King Jr. Day

Her family lived for generations in the old Victorian house on the hill. In its day, the house had been the jewel of the community, with its beautiful gabled archways, lattice-work trims, and sweeping lawns with beautiful gardens. She loved coming to spend summers with her grandparents, who kept the place in pristine condition. Each generation had passed the home down to the oldest daughter in each family. Her grandmother had inherited it from her great-grandmother, and one day her own mother would have the home. One day, she would also inherit the home. She looked forward to her own child having the wonderful summer experiences as she had had at the old house.

But things would be different with this generation. The stately home had always been occupied by married couples. She was pregnant and unmarried. It had been a difficult situation, telling her parents her one-night stand had born fruit. She didn't want to reveal his name to them as she felt it wasn't necessary. The community would judge her, and the so-called Christians would act unchristian-like. She had this cross to bear, and she would carry it for the rest of her life.

She hoped the father would not complicate her life and cause her undue hardship somewhere down the line. If he would stay out of her life forever, she would consider that a blessing. So far, so good. He had not made any effort to contact her after the disaster of a date that had created the life she was now carrying. She hoped for a girl. If she had a boy, perhaps the father would appear and want more from her than she was willing to give. What he really wanted was her approval, but she could not give something she did not feel. She had no intention of sifting through ashes looking for a flame with a person she didn't want to know, let alone be connected to.

Today, she had the day off from work as it was Martin Luther King Jr. Day. She thought it would be a good day to visit her grandparents. She had called her grandmother to see if she could explore the attic to find something she remembered from childhood.

Her grandmother and grandfather were prim and proper in their beliefs, and the way they conducted their lives. This would be the first time she had seen them since they were told she was going to have a baby. They had said little to her, other than was she feeling well and was she still working. She felt it might be a bit awkward, but she would survive. Her grandparents had been loving and warm-hearted all her life, and she felt a close bond with them and hoped she always would. This hiccup—or blessing—would be part of her from now on. Take it or leave it, she felt, This is who I am and that's the way it is.

When she pulled up the driveway, she had a feeling of apprehension that scattered in the wind when her grandparents greeted her with arms flown open and wide smiles. She was embraced in loving arms that held her tight, and her grandparents kissed her face. Following them into the house, she felt like a young child again as she had followed their footsteps so many times over the years growing up.

They walked a little more slowly and their hair was quite a bit thinner, but her grandfather held his bride's hand the same as he had always done, and she knew that she came from a family that loved each other very much. As he opened the screen door, he winked and said, You know she's my old habit. She laughed at that as he was always cooking up some kind of a story.

They sat down in the beautiful parlor. The polished side tables held lamps with floral shades, and the Victorian chairs were draped in expertly made lace doilies. Everything was in its place. The fireplace was cut from crafted marble, with a wooden mantle depicting scenes from a fox hunt. Antique figurines and vases adorned the mantel, and she remembers not being allowed to touch them as a child. The paintings on the walls were of vases holding peonies and roses, and beautiful landscapes that captured attention.

She had such lovely memories of being a child and teenager in the house. She hoped her grandmother could still play the piano like she used to. As a child, she would dance around to the music as her grandfather laughed and clapped. Her grandparents made music and dancing a delight to hear and see.

Her grandfather had a long silvery mustache and beautiful sky-blue eyes. Sometimes he grew a beard during the winter months. He was tall and had a way of dressing that was very attractive, even when he wore his work clothes. He was always easy with a smile and could find the positive in most any situation. He was easy to be around as he made everything fun.

Her grandmother was a short, shapely woman who had dignity to her. She always wore dresses with an apron, and she, too, had an abundance of silver, shimmering hair which she wore in a beautiful, upswept French roll hairstyle. The woman often wondered what her grandmother had looked like as a young woman, as she must have been striking. Her favorite cologne was lilac, and she never went a day without applying it and she always smelled wonderful anytime you hugged her or were around her.

Over a pitcher of lemonade and sugar cookies, she answered their questions about what had happened and what her choices and plans were. She didn't leave much out in the telling of the story, except who the father was.

Her grandfather then said, Bad choices make for interesting stories. She looked at him in shock and then started to laugh. He had hit the nail on the head with his interpretation, as he always did.

Her grandmother smiled at her. Don't sweat the small stuff, she said, and don't overthink it. Don't obsess, don't worry, and don't cry over spilled milk. Everything will be fine. Family takes care of family.

After a while, she asked if she could go to the attic. She told them that as a child, she had loved looking at all the old stuff that was there. She particularly remembered an old crib, and she wanted to see if it might be useable to fix up and use for the baby. Her grandmother lit up with remembrance and said she could tell her many stories about the old crib, as it had been her grandfathers as a baby. She said there had been many babies in that old crib. It had coats of many colors as it had been painted many different colors over the years. It had been the first place of bed rest for all the baby boys and baby girls who had started out this life in it. Her grandmother wondered if it would again have a coat of another color or be cleaned and taken down to the original wood and finished back to the original way it had been made.

They got up and started up the stairs to the attic. Each was slower than in past years, even herself. She hadn't remembered them being so steep. Maybe she was more observant than she had ever been before. Once on the landing, her grandmother opened the door to a room of memories, left to sit, and gather dust. For years, the family had placed items up there, and now the attic was full of boxes, furniture, and household items well past their glory days.

She walked to a four-poster bed and ran her hand down the varnished wood. The bed needed a new mattress, her grandmother said, but it was made very well and would one day find its way back into a bedroom. She turned and added, Only love has ever been part of this bed. Every couple who has slept in it were married all their lives.

She thought about what her grandmother had said. She would not be able to say that, as she didn't have anyone in her life to love her. She knew she was not doing anything the traditional way, having a baby out of wedlock.

She spied a box labeled photos and asked if she could see some of her relatives from generations ago. Her grandmother brought the box to the bed, and they sat on the sagging mattress and opened a whole new world. Her grandmother showed her pictures of the young woman's parents, wedding photos from several generations, including the original owners of the house, her great-great-grandparents.

There were baby photos and school pictures of multiple generations of children. She was delighted to see her grandmother and grandfather as infants, then children, and as a young married couple. When she was shown photos of her grandmother's mother, she couldn't help but ask what nationality she was, as the woman had such flowing black hair and exotic dark