As the child of a first-generation American whose parents were born in Russia, I was made aware each year of "Russian Christmas." This holiday falls on January 7. Although my father was a self-pronounced atheist, his orthodox background allowed us to glimpse something else. We never had a large celebration on Russian Christmas, but it was a recongized special day and we'd be likely to have a special meal.

My father fled the scene in the mid-60s, but I wanted to keep that Russian connection going. Once I married, we decided to celebrate it in our own way, as our special day recognizing my heritage. And once the kids were born, the tradition became firmly entrenched.

For years we have celebrated with a special meal - nothing particularly ethnic, just something out of the ordinary for us - and I have gifted each child with a small present. Through 2005, each gift was unique to the person's current likes and interests, but with the death of our oldest son in Spring 2005, I was thrown into a sea of blackness. With the need to celebrate warring with deep depression, I resorted to the same gift for each of the children in 2006. It was a deep blue silk jacquard table runner. This gift had no relationship to our dear son, but its beauty grabbed me. My accomanying note to each said that, though we are all physically distant from one another, when we need a dose of home and the phone calls just don't provide enough, we can use the runner to know that we are all connected. I know these items have been used as table runners and as dresser scarves, and have spent some time folded away in drawers. But they're there when we need them.

This year I'm a little more centered, but still chose a common gift for all. And our youngest daughter is at home to spend the holiday with us! Although I'm not sure where this tradition is headed, I'm sure it is one that will be kept alive. Happy Russian Christmas!