My Christmas Holiday

When we went to Lubbock to go visit are the family, we has to stay at my grandmas house and it was cold in their house because they didn't have their heater on we told them to put it on but they never listen to us. So we all just wrapped ourselves in blankets. We celebrated Christmas with my dad's side of the family for the day. We eat ham and other sides that they made with it and we opened gifts, all I got was some clothes.The next day we celebrated with my mom's side of the family. We ate tacos,beans, and chips and after that we opened presents and we played bingo.Then the next day we went back home, back it was time to go back.

The leaves were brown and the weather was cold, but not unbearably cold. The morning had just started and the sun was barely out. I was eight years old at the time and it was Thanksgiving Day, and on top of the various assortment of food, my family and I had relatives coming to our house to partake in this Thanksgiving feast. My mother had gotten numerous amounts of groceries from the store throughout the week, including potatoes, green beans, cranberry sauce, mix for stuffing, a humongous ham, and to top it if we had the staple for every Thanksgiving, a turkey. I could already smell the scent of a honey baked ham in the oven as I got out of bed and started my day in the bathroom.

“Spirit, hear me. I am not the man I was. I will not be that man that I have been for so many years. Why show me all of this if I am past all hope? Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have shown me.

Over my Thanksgiving Vacation I did a lot of stuff like cook. I got to cook some of the food but my grandma cook the Tuckey and all of the stuff that I did not like. She cooked gravy, stuffing, green bean casserole and yams. when she was done cooking all of that I cooked all of the stuff that I did like ham, mac a cheese, deviled egg, apple pie, pumice pie When we were both done cooking all of the food, it was 5:00a clock and I was so glad that I got to eat because it smelled so good. I was very hungry. When we were done eating the Thanksgiving food, we had a lot of left overs we pat I a way. Then we watched the parade on TV. We record it and it was so cute to watch

My family and I drive from Brownstown to Rochester, to eat at my aunt’s house. We are supposed to arrive at three o’clock, but due to my mom’s inability to be on time, we are usually forty-five minutes late. When I step into the front door to my aunt’s house, my mouth begins to water. I can smell the strong aromas coming from the kitchen. I am then greeted at the door by the two small dogs yapping hello to me. I take off my shoes and proceed to the living room to say hello to the rest of the family. We then talk for awhile while my uncle finishes up the turkey. When the turkey is done we all rush to the counter to get the first plate. Turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, stuffing, green beans, sausage, rolls, it is all there, waiting for us to devour it. Once the rush is over and everyone is seated at the table, we bow our heads and thank God for the wonderful food we have been blessed with. After we have all eaten and the family is done pounding me with questions regarding my future, my cousins, siblings, and I all clean off the table and wash the dishes. Once the dishes are done and our stomachs are stuffed, we pack up some of the left overs and head back

The first step in our standard routine for Turkey Day includes three generations, hours of chopping, and one delicious-smelling kitchen. It is my grandmother on my mother’s side, Oma, who leads this mass preparation that leaves us with enough food for a small army… or just twenty with really full bellies. Oma has always been the master of mashed potatoes and turkeys, because Thanksgiving is infamously known as HER favorite holiday and most of the traditions align with her side of the family. The smile on her face as she chops her thousandth celery stock clues me in to how much she is joyfully anticipating tomorrow, when she will come together in thanks with all of her children, grandchildren, and sweetly adored relatives. After an exhaustive day spent long in the kitchen, she squeezes me goodbye and says, “See you tomorrow for Turkey Day!” with a gleam of childish excitement in her

I get to put on my big jacket and my gloves, rushing to the school to launch poorly formed snowballs at my friends. Winter is all about Christmas though. I couldn't escape it, everything around me felt magical. My school always held activities involving Christmas somehow. Wether it be a lesson on the history of Christmas or just connect the dots that unsurprisingly managed to form a reindeer or jolly old saint Nicholas himself - it didn't matter. I was ecstatic for Christmas. When the day came, presents packed around the tree coated in fake snow, I ripped into each present with anticipation and excitement plastered over my face. A brand new update on the toys i owned. Then Christmas dinner at my grans soon after: the classic turkey and gravy shoved into my face, as my family told jokes and wore hats they got from the Christmas crackers. It was too big to fit my small head, but it was Christmas, there was no such thing as

It was November 26, 2013 (I was in sixth grade) and my grandma (great grandma) was coming down with something. I thought it was the stomach flu, but we weren’t sure. One of the main things that popped into my mind was that Thanksgiving is only two days away. What about Thanksgiving? My grandma normally cooks Thanksgiving with the help from my mom, who the next morning was also sick. (And you are probably wondering, no I do not live with my grandma, me some of my siblings and cousins spend the night at her house around holidays) So now the two people that cook Thanksgiving dinner for about twenty people, are sick.

It was November of 2014 when my family and I were traveling to Payson, Arizona to visit my grandparents and celebrate Thanksgiving. My family is fairly small so it wasn't complicated to plan holiday events without much hassle. We arrived in the afternoon time a day before Thanksgiving. We decided to celebrate a day early with my mothers side of the family since the rest of our family resides in Phoenix. Usually, this time of year brings out the good in everyone. For instance, my grandma always feels inclined to share how much she thanks the Lord for all of us. When we arrived the ham had already been cooking in the oven for what I assume had been a few hours. Their house has always been warm and inviting, decorated with old western memorabilia. The first thing we did when we arrived was greet grandma and grandpa with hugs and kisses to the cheek. We don't get to see them as often as we all would like and these reunions are far and in-between, but sometimes the longer you wait for something special, the more increased your anticipation of the event is. To say that I was excited would be an understatement.

When we had Thanksgiving over at her house, my sister and I would stay the night and help her prepare all the food for everyone to come over. This was a great tradition we had every year with so many different options, ranging from turkey to sweet potato pie. The thrill of being able to spend time with my two favorites, my grandmother and thanksgiving dinner. But there was one year that changed it all, the year that instead of having a Thanksgiving turkey, we had duck. This was a big surprise for my sister and I the night before because it is something we’ve never tried before, so this was going to be a new experience. The day of Thanksgiving, we all congregated at my grandmother’s house to have dinner and this rose the getting

Christmas is meant for joy and laughter, not injuries and pain. Each year there are hundreds of injuries that occur on the morning of December 25th. When the holiday approaches Americans love to get into the Christmas spirit. Each family celebrates Christmas with their own traditions and rituals that determine their holiday activities. I would have never thought that my family’s traditions for Christmas morning would help me shape my values.

Economy is not doing so well. Its become cold and not many crops are growing. Its Christmas. Officially my third Christmas in America. But I don’t celabrate it. See I am not Catholic or Christian I am Polytheistic and the owners don’t like that. Still here I am on Christmas day working. Another reason our kind is hated so much. Europeans believe that only people of their religion were right. As of the today they re-assigned me back the the cotton fields for a short amount of time. Its been a regular day that is until I look down on my arm I see the long scar that the owner whipped me with a few days ago. I traced my fingers around it. And I decided I didn’t want to live like this anymore. Grabing a small bag I put in what ever I could find

I remember waking up on Christmas day with a huge smile on my face, heart full of joy, and my stomach barking. I can smell all the spices cooking down stairs. As soon as I got out of bed I will rushed down the steps into the kitchen to see what my mom had prepare for us on this special day. We had different variety of food turkey, stuffing, ham, bake beans, mac and

As I begin to recollect past experiences and events growing up, Thanksgiving is the holiday that appears most meaningful. I choose to illuminate Thanksgiving because this is a time when family and friends would forget their worries and differences and collectively came together at grandmother’s house to partake of the Gullah dishes. Furthermore, it serves as a vehicle in stimulating family health and wellbeing, while passing on the identity of the family throughout generations. As I reminiscence, I can recall the air was bursting with love, hugs, laugher and kisses; a sight to behold. Grandmother’s house was small but no one seemed to care as it was inviting. Every area of the house was utilized from the kitchen to the narrow stairway that lead upstairs to the bedrooms. Children were outside playing working up an appetite although there was a chill in the air often going unnoticed, still we were bundled in our hats, coats and mittens. This was not a formal affair but we were all neatly dressed. The house was filled with distinct smells that was heavenly. Steam came from the kitchen as finishing touches were placed on meals. Watching my aunts sweat trying to maneuver in a tight kitchen hoping to avoid bumping into one another was hilarious, but I paid close attention for one day that would be me

From the outside, my life consists of all happy moments. My friends, family and teachers all see me as a bubbly, positive girl that is full of curiosity and energy. There is this one secret that only I know. Holidays scare me. Starting at the age of fourteen, I began to realize that I have a fear of holidays. As holidays start to approach, I become nervous and anxious. I love Christmas, Thanksgiving and New Years, but my fear consists of my parents. As an only child and having all my extended family members living in Malaysia, I spend holidays celebrating with my parents. Holidays for me can either turn out to be good or bad. When I was little, my parents would have a big fight or argument at least once a year and it typically happened during the holidays. These fights always ended with my parents not talking to each other for days. My parents would talk to me about their problems and as an only child, I did not know how to deal with it. When these fights happened, I use to think it was my fault. I would cry while they would argue and continue to cry when I took a shower. The thought of my parents being mad at each other, made me sad and frustrated because there was nothing I can do. As I grew older, I realized that these fights were not my fault. I should not put the blame on myself. I learned to understand that married couples sometimes fight and adults have so much daily pressure they carry on their backs that little situations can become big situations due to their