46 / matters magazine / holiday 2018 M y now-husband, Chad, and I were bitten hard and fast by the love bug and spent our first Christmas together less than a month after meeting in southern California. Like me, Chad and his brother, Brian, were West Coast transplants, with no other family nearby with whom to welcome Father Christmas. We three gathered with our friends, hearts full of glee, to break bread on Christmas Eve. The boys prepared our holiday meal in honor of their kind- hearted grandma in Iowa, replete with a favorite hol- iday comfort dish: green bean casserole baked with Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup, topped with French’s crispy onions. My spirit was brightened by their palpable joy and love for one another; I felt an overwhelming sense that I belonged. As Chad made Happy Christmas phone calls to family, I felt a restless churning sensation as a famil- iar anxiety rose up inside my stomach: I wouldn’t be phoning any family members, as they didn’t cel- ebrate Christmas. In fact, growing up, most holidays were not recognized by my immediate family due to their religious beliefs, and because modern festivities often came from pagan roots. Digging deep through the muck of my unease, I summoned the courage to divulge my truth to Chad, fumbling through the words between uncontrollable gulps and tears. He comforted me with a hug, and my nervousness gave way to a sense of undying acceptance. We never looked back. This year marks our 10th Christmas together, and our fifth with our son, Brody. With no childhood Christmases of my own, I have the exceptional privilege of experiencing the season’s magical rituals as novelties with my son. We trek to the North Pole yearly, and my face cracks into an irrepressible smile as he whispers his wish list into Santa’s welcoming ear. I imagine silly pranks to be played out by Chippie, our wily Elf on a Shelf, and delight in my son’s discovery of the elf’s lat- est antics. On Christmas Eve, we erupt into joyous dance and laughter, singing along to Christmas mu- sic. We indulge in a plentiful spread of appetizers and gather our friends and family together in our home; as a rule, we don’t travel for Christmas. Af- ter leaving Santa a frosted shortbread cookie (and carrots for the reindeer), we tuck our precious angel into bed, with a kiss on the forehead and a “Merry Christmas Eve.” Though my family of origin didn’t participate in Christmas, there was a wealth of celebration throughout the year, and we were strong as a fam- ily unit. Best of all, there was an abundance of love, which kept me protected and safe, full of a richness that cannot be bought. Love and family are the driving forces behind the traditions my little family has begun. Spending time together and making memories, along with the spirit of joy and generosity that comes alive within all of us during the holidays, are indeed our great- est gifts to one another. Every Christmas, we each become more accepting, more joyful, more selfless, more kind; our humanity blossoms. And that, dear neighbors, is reason enough to celebrate. Heidi Borst is a writer, fitness freak, and lover of good pizza, living the dream in Maplewood Village, with a side of disco fries. finalmatters for the Holidays Embracing the magic of Christmas – starting from scratch BY HEIDI BORST Finding My Home Brody at his annual visit with Santa.