In most families, there are movies that stay at the top of the watch list, especially around the holidays. My sister and her husband don’t consider it a true Christmas unless they’ve watched “A Christmas Vacation” while decorating the tree.
When I was younger, my family always watched “The Wizard of Oz” at Thanksgiving, knowing the movie was the first harbinger of the Christmas season.
In December, I look for “A Christmas Carol,” a 1950’s black-and-white movie starring Alastair Sim as the crotchety Ebenezer Scrooge. It’s one of my favorites and always introduces the yuletide season. For the Hebert family, nothing beats the musicals, especially “Fiddler on the Roof.” My dad was profoundly affected by the film, and my mom said he choked up every time one of Tevye’s daughters left home.
Every song in “Fiddler on the Roof” is etched into my memory because my mom played the soundtrack constantly. We know all the dialogue, and we sing along with every song, from “If I Were a Rich Man” to “Matchmaker, Matchmaker.”
Tevye, the father of three daughters, is my favorite character in the movie because he evolves and changes as he experiences prejudice, his daughters’ wishing to make their own decisions and then having to leave his hometown.
What connects Tevye to the universe is tradition. As life evolves, Tevye keeps some traditions while leaving others behind. I think about Tevye every Christmas as we maintain the traditions I grew up with and add new ones as our family changes and evolves.
For over 35 years, everyone in the Hebert family met at my parents’ home on Christmas Eve. My mom always made a huge pot of gumbo, enough for over 50 people, and everyone brought their own special dish to add to the banquet.
My brother, and then his children with him, serenaded us with guitars and Christmas songs as everyone waited to open gifts, the children first and then the adults. Laughter filled the air, and every Christmas has its own special memory — the year my we all made the gifts for each other and the ritual of taking the huge family portrait.
The first Christmas Eve after my father passed away was difficult. It was his tradition to read the Bible passage of the birth of Christ, and we knew we’d miss him even more at that moment. But my brother quietly took over dad’s duties, keeping what we did in spirit but adjusting to the changing times.
As we brothers and sisters became grandparents, we adjusted again, and many of us were no longer able to all travel to my mom’s for Christmas Eve. As heartbreaking as it was to miss the family gathering, my mother had some sage advice for those of us who couldn’t make it. She said traditions are what bind us, but making new ones is what keeps the family connected from generation to generation.
So this Christmas Eve, I’ll be making a pot of chicken gumbo but adding a few Texas dishes to the menu.
We’ll still read the passage from the Bible and I hope my son will serenade us with his guitar.
My wish is that other families can also honor the past, celebrate the present and create for the future so that, despite what obstacles and triumphs come our way, all our Christmases may be bright.
This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.