Food, Noise, Fire!

G. K. Chesterton called tradition “the democracy of the dead” because it gave “votes to the most obscure of all classes, our ancestors.” If he had been blessed with children, he would have learned that the democracy of the dead is often overthrown by the dictatorship of one’s descendents. Live children have a way of overruling dead ancestors. They even overrule their ancestors who are not dead. By the time our tenth child arrived, our Christmas traditions had devolved to resemble the more successful children’s party games, all of which, as my husband is fond of pointing out, involve food, noise, or fire. Preferably all three.

Saying family prayers around an Advent wreath, for example, scores a surprisingly high two out of three for noise and fire. (If you cannot imagine how evening prayers could involve noise, you obviously have never heard our family sing “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” accompanied by maracas.) Up to the last amen, my children behave reasonably well.

Then we have the Great Candle Competition.

The teenage boys slap the candles out with their bare hands. (They assure me that if you strike fast enough, the wind from your hand blows the flame out before it can burn you. The difference between fast and fast enough is why only teenage boys do this.) Their little brothers squirt the candles out with the holy water bottle.

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