By: Tonya Kimbrough

For the last several years at Christmas, I’ve either taken a week off, or at KVBPR our offices have been closed (thank you). I spend the week at my parent’s house catching up with family and old friends in my hometown who either still live there or are also home for the holidays. I look forward to the time of relaxing, eating mom’s cooking and recharging for the new year.

My favorite time is Christmas Eve. My parents and I spend the evening watching our favorite holiday movies while basking in the glow of the lights from the Christmas tree and mom’s snow village. Our recurring list includes Miracle on 34th Street (the old black and white version), A Christmas Story, which is played for 24 hours straight on TBS, and our favorite — It’s A Wonderful Life. In between movies, my dad talks my mom into letting us open presents until we have only one left, which is saved for Christmas morning.

Every year I watch George Bailey, at the end of It’s a Wonderful Life, as friends and family pour into his house to give whatever they have to save their friend. His life didn’t turn out quite as he had planned, but he learns a great lesson. His life had a tremendous impact because he invested it in loving and helping those around him. I love starting the year being reminded of this simple truth. To me, it’s what the message of Christmas is all about.

When we recall Christmas past, we usually find that the simplest things – not the great occasions – give off the greatest glow of happiness. ~ Bob Hope

By: Mary Katherine Barranco

As a school-age child, I went to my grandparents’ house every day after school. Sometimes during the first part of December, my grandfather would get down the Fontanini Nativity Set that my grandmother had collected pieces for over the years.  It was my job to set up and arrange the Nativity, something I looked forward to every year.  I think the reason I looked forward to it so much is because I was given “creative freedom” to arrange the figurines however I wanted.  Sure, I put Mary and Joseph (and baby Jesus) inside the manger (that my grandfather built), and I put the Wise Men together, but there was this figure of a sleeping man who never really fit into my setup, so I determined early on that he should sleep on the roof.  And he’s slept on the roof of the manger ever since.

By: Heather Schablik, APR

My favorite memory of Christmas is actually a recent one – last year, to be exact. It was my daughter’s first Christmas and I finally had the opportunity to witness the “magic” I had heard about for so many years.

Growing up, I remember my parents making comments about how seeing my face on Christmas morning was the best present I could give them. And in the haste to open presents and discover what Santa had left, I think I just shrugged those comments aside and never really stopped to think about what they meant. But last year, as I watched Claire’s eyes light up with excitement at the tree, the lights, the presents and the music, I suddenly had a flashback to all those years. Suddenly, I finally understood what it meant to see Christmas through the eyes of a child.

Claire is almost two this year, and I can hardly wait until Sunday when I get to experience it all again. I have a feeling my favorite Christmas memory will probably change again and again for the next several years as the magic continues to unfold…and nothing makes me happier.

By: Aileen Katcher, APR, Fellow PRSA

Since I’m Jewish, my family never celebrated Christmas in our home.  When I married my non-Jewish husband 28 years ago, we decided to come up with our own holiday traditions that embraced both of our upbringings.

On Christmas day, we do a family volunteer project.  For many years, we relieved the staff at the Nashville Family Shelter for homeless families, now part of Safe Haven.  Now, we deliver Meals-on-Wheels for FiftyForward.  Then, on to the in-laws for Christmas dinner and gifts.  In turn, I host a grand potato latke dinner with dreydels and Chanukah gelt and gifts for all the kids, along with the traditional lighting of the menorah during Chanukah.

When she was alive, my wonderful mother-in-law always put a bag of beans along with her famous New Year’s lucky bean soup recipe in the stocking she had for me at her house.  So, since the year after we were married, I make bean soup and host a New Year’s open house on January 1.  Friends who aren’t able to come are always in fear of bad luck.  This year will be our 28^th annual party.  Stop in on Jan. 1 if you are in the neighborhood.  There’s always plenty for all.

In essence, our holiday traditions revolve around family, friends, food and giving back.  So even though I don’t celebrate Christmas religiously, I think it’s safe to say its spirit is alive and well in our family.

By: Greg Bailey, APR

As a little kid growing up in Nashville in the 1960s, it wasn’t the Christmas season until you braved the December cold to see and experience the Nativity spread out in all its glory along the south lawn of The Parthenon in Centennial Park. The all-white, life-sized exhibit was a gift to the city from department store owner Fred Harvey, Sr., who spent an initial $150,000 to have the exhibit designed and built of alabaster-white celastic (a plastic-type fabric) and hard rubber. Through the years there were thousands of lights, changed from the dramatic all-white to multicolored, to illuminate and shadow the 45 human and 78 animal statutes. Outside speakers played traditional Christmas carols and – most of the time – people were quiet, reflective, and when they did speak, it was in whispers.

The exhibit, well-known Nashville holiday lore, was a tradition until, finally, the weather took its toll on the figures and the exhibit was last displayed in 1967.

Today, though, it doesn’t take much imagination to drive past the Parthenon on a December night and see Nashville’s Christmas spectacle. For a five-year-old, it was magic. There was the Christmas Story – the shepherds, the Wise Men, the angels and the manger. Bethlehem was born right in front of your eyes. It was a scene of great joy.

By: Renee Sloan

Growing up, there were four kids in our house so Christmas was a time filled with anticipation, excitement and absolute chaos.  As a child, my fondest memories were hanging out in the kitchen where the air was filled with the aroma of freshly baked cakes, pies and candies.  One particular memory stands out, as each year mom would make a jam cake with caramel icing for my dad. She only made it once a year, and she always made it on Christmas Eve.  Mom would spend hours trying to get the icing to set up so that she could spread it on the cake.  Then we would leave a piece of it for Santa so that when he visited our house he would be sure to leave us lots of toys.

By: Holley Stein, APR

My tradition is to wake up early the day after Thanksgiving, give the dogs bones to keep them occupied, sit by myself in the middle of the couch under a blanket with a pair of pink and white-striped cozy socks and a pot of coffee, and watch “The Holiday” and “Love Actually.” I keep a box of tissue nearby for the cue-card scene in the latter movie.

It’s silly, it’s romantic, and my holiday season does not truly begin until I have seen them.

By: Nancy DeKalb

There weren’t any Christmas tree lots in my hometown of Galva, Illinois.  Instead, you drove to the tree farm, walked until you found the perfect Christmas tree, cut it down and hauled it back home.

My Dad and I made the last tree farm trip…the one that ended the Holding Family tradition of a live Christmas tree.

Our trip started out fine.  We remembered the ax and string to secure the tree.  After a short hike through the snow-covered fields, we found the perfectly shaped evergreen, cut it down, dragged it back to the family Chevy, and secured it in the car trunk with just a few feet of tree hanging out the back.  We headed back into town feeling pretty proud of our quick work.

Once back home, we popped the tree in its stand, secured it to the window curtain rod with wire so the family cat and dog wouldn’t upset it, and stood back to admire our work.

That’s when the odor hit.

Mom walked into the room and asked why the house smelled like manure.  A quick check of shoe soles confirmed that neither of us had stepped in it.  But, there it was splattered on the branches that had been hanging out of the car trunk.

Words were muttered.

As Dad and I stood outside in the snow and 20-degree weather “washing” the manure off the tree with a bucket of soapy water and a hose, my Dad swore up and down that he would never have another live Christmas tree.

By: Jessica Varner

One of my favorite things about the Christmas season is my semiannual tea party with my two best friends from my hometown, St. Louis. Since 2006, we have had a tea party twice each year to celebrate our friendship and remind ourselves that we are priceless like fine china.

I have been best friends with Rachel since we were eight and Lauren since we were thirteen. We have been through so much together and I am truly blessed by their friendship.

At our Christmas tea party we usually start off with a few pictures in front of the tree and then we sit down to a beautiful candlelit table. While we sip on tea and munch on scones we talk about what we have learned from the past year and what we hope for in the coming year. We then exchange presents and letters. The presents are always thoughtful and the letters remind me that I have incredible friends. Despite all of us going to different colleges and being hours apart, we maintain that best friend bond.

My best friends are my sisters and Christmas reminds me that they are a gift from God.  I am so thankful to have them in my life and I look forward to many more Christmases with them.

By: Laine Milam

In my family, Christmas bacchanalia lasts over a month. Days are filled with tree trimming, present wrapping and treat devouring. Yet, all of these festivities are easily eclipsed by one long-standing tradition—the Christmas light drive.

Situated between a hearty Italian dinner and midnight Mass, the Christmas light drive captures everything that is wonderful about Christmas Eve. We pile in the car and set off on an adventure that will wind through childhood neighborhoods, Nashville mainstays and busy thoroughfares. Each new street elicits a series of anecdotes from my father, usually starting with, “I went to a party in that house”.

Anecdotes aside, it is amazing how houses transform into homes on the Christmas light drive. Picture windows glow with softly lit Frasier firs, and colored lights outline homes like gumdrops. Christmas light drives also give a glimpse into how other families are spending their special time, whether it’s in front of the fireplace or playing in the front yard.

Seeing other families spending quality time together epitomizes the holiday season for me. It is a heartwarming reminder that time with my own family is not only precious, but the reason for the season. Even though Christmas Eve is a month away, I look forward to another wintry adventure with the family.