passing on

 There’s something very meaningful about the passing on of things. 

Objects. Traditions. Ideas. Habits. Lessons 

I’ve been thinking about it in moments lately. Not that I’ve stopped to truly ponder it, but I’ve simply noticed the extra layer of significance those moments hold. I noticed it tonight as I helped Lucy memorize verse three of “Go Tell It On the Mountain,” that she volunteered to sing on Christmas Eve. Hearing her sound out the uncommon words, carefully writing them down, and finally singing them mostly-confidently, I was struck by the poignancy of it. How she now knows words sung by generations before her. 

There are so many of these moments. 

Moments like watching my childhood ornaments be carefully placed on the tree by new little hands. 

Or hearing a story I’ve shared retold again. 

Or teaching the words of a favorite song. 

Sharing the magic of a familiar book. 

 Baking and sharing my Grammy’s Christmas cookies. 

Hearing one child correct and redirect the other using the words they heard from me. 

Some of the things we pass on are deeply intentional and traditional. But some just happen, becoming significant before we even realize it. I think both are magical.