It never mattered in whose home we’d gather as a family for Thanksgiving dinner. What mattered was we’d be together to enjoy both the feast and each other. Everything prepared was done to perfection-the turkey, the mashed potatoes, the gravy with dumplings, the ground cranberries with oranges, the stuffing, the vegetables, the pies, the homemade whip cream and all the many trimmings were always perfect and always devoured as generations shared this day set aside for giving thanks. But there was something else to be thankful for on this day of thanksgiving that had nothing to do with the turkey and had everything to do with that looming holiday next on the calendar that was in the back of everyone’s minds especially if you were a kid. Most families have their own traditions. Our family was no exception.

I don’t know when or how this began. I just remember waiting impatiently for the dishes to be cleared and the pies brought in. It was at this point that our family tradition kicked in. It’d been named “Table Trees” by someone at some point along the way. What it entailed was cutting white paper into strips. On each strip the name of a family member was written. Then the strips were folded, placed inside a ceramic Santa Claus, and mixed up. When it was time, two designated grandchildren would carry that Santa around the table. As they went from one to another, each person would pick out a strip. That person then became responsible for buying that name a small gift to be opened after Christmas dinner. All the little gifts would be placed on the table after dessert-thus the term, “Table Tree” gifts.

This tradition kept Christmas anticipation alive. It provided hours of guessing by those of us young enough to have hours to spend guessing what we might get from whom. Most family members told whose name they’d picked. But some-like a certain uncle-never told. Once he picked his slip of paper it remained a secret. He kept everyone guessing right up to the last possible second. We all wished to be the one receiving his gift because he always went over the $5. limit. He gave great table tree gifts unlike some others who never once spent more than $5. Those were the relatives we dreaded having our names. They gave boring gifts and who needs boring when it comes to the very last gift of Christmas.

Of all the table trees I received growing up, one in particular stands out. I knew it’d be an okay gift since a pretty cool aunt who lived next door was the one who’d chosen my name. She made great sloppy joes and always had projects going like making candles out of milk cartons and wreaths from greens gathered down in the woods. A few weeks before Christmas I watched as she walked up her driveway to the mailbox. I convinced myself that the package she was carrying back into her house was my table tree gift. I never found out if it was but it didn’t matter. The table tree gift she gave me remains my favorite. It was a matching pencil and letter holder for my desk-a perfect gift for the last gift of Christmas. She knew how much I loved my desk. That set now sits on my bigger desk.

Family traditions link generations. They create memories. Table tree anticipation made that long, grueling wait from Thanksgiving to Christmas even longer! And it continues. I’ve inherited that ceramic Santa. This Thanksgiving before the pies are devoured, strips of paper with familiar names will be chosen at random. Let the anticipation begin!