Local traditions

Written by editor

Read these time-honoured traditions, then submit your own in the comments below!

Janet Stewart,
Host, CBC News Winnipeg

When I was growing up, I thought my older brother was cool. He thought I was annoying. He was the closest sibling in age to me, but still, there were six years between us. Today, at 49 and 43, that’s no big deal. At 12 and six, it was an insurmountable divide.

Except on Christmas morning. Once a year, like clockwork, my brother and I couldn’t wait to hang out together.

The rule at my house Christmas morning was that we had to all have breakfast together and all get dressed before going downstairs and
tackling the tree. We kids were, however, allowed to open our Christmas stockings as soon as we woke up.

So every Christmas morning, I’d grab my stocking and Gordon’s and race to his room. I’d bound onto his bed, he’d be happy to see me, and together we’d open our stockings.

One morning, once a year that still makes me tear up. Gordon lives in Australia now. He moved there when I was 19 and he was 25, just as that six year divide was narrowing, and we were becoming friends. I miss him like crazy. Especially on Christmas morning.

Gail Asper,
O.C., O.M., LL.D.

Growing up Jewish, one of the things I loved most about Hannukah was our tradition of getting a little gift for each night of the eight nights of Hannukah. (It’s sort of like an extended eight-day Christmas stocking!) Then we’d head to my cousin Mariam’s house for a big Hannukah
party with all the aunts, uncles, cousins and extended family. We still have the big party and still try to get our kids gifts each night.

Of course, being the only Jewish kid in my class at Robert H. Smith, I would also have to stand up and tell the class what Hannukah was all about every year, which I was always uncomfortable doing, although I love the message of Hannukah, which is about fighting for freedom.

At the same time, I loved taking part in our school choir’s Christmas concerts and know every Christmas carol by heart, to this day. I’m probably the only one in Winnipeg who enjoys singing along with the Christmas carols in the elevators and I adore going to sing-along Christmas concerts that abound at this time of year.

Of course, the worst thing about the holidays is trying to lose weight in January after having consumed hundreds of crispy potato pancakes that are a Hannukah tradition and dozens of my mom’s unbelievably buttery, light as air, shortbread cookies!

Marcy Markusa,
Host, CBC Information Radio

One Christmas at my mom’s house there was so much leftover ham that I finally called her on it. “Mom, most of us don’t like ham!” But my Baba
proudly proclaimed, “I love ham, I just can’t eat all of that alone.” (Pointing to the heaping plate.)

After dinner I announced that as a family we had to help my Baba eat the ham. We were all obliged. “The ham game” was born.

Basically—we pulled out some kind of a board game and started playing and if you lost your turn or rolled poorly...you had to eat a piece of ham. We passed the plate around and around and we laughed and laughed.

My Baba died suddenly when I was 21 years old. I’m pushing 40 now, and my mom still makes too much ham...but I think it’s on purpose.
“The Ham Game” is our way of remembering her at Christmas.