There exists a tradition where the day after Christmas, mothers, the clever magicians that they are, redress leftovers to create entirely new meals. These leftovers and bevvys gather in a picnic basket ready to take on whatever comes. Several baskets and their families meet at a park or at the beach and spend the day together. The children run amuck while parents sit on blankets to swap animated stories about the events of the last few days and get nostalgic about the year just passed.
I remember spending the day at the zoo when I was little. As I ran around with curious friends, I looked back at our parents and wondered why in the world they would choose to sit down and talk when there was such an awful lot of adventure to be had. My little heart worried that they were missing out.
This Boxing Day, we sat around our table for tea and cakes. We caught up on travel stories, new experiences, and laughed till our bellies ached. As I looked around and listened to everyone, I remembered that worried little girl at the zoo. I quickly took it upon myself to take her aside and reassure her that indeed no one was missing out that day. “People are the greatest adventure, my dear. They are all infinitely different. They each have their own unique stories and experiences – and if you listen very closely to them, they all add to the adventure of your own life.”
She looked up at me, a smile slowly making it’s way to her shining eyes. She quickly grabbed me by the hand and we ran back to our parents sitting on the blankets, happily ready to listen to even more stories.
You see, there exists this tradition the day after Christmas. And each year it is reinvented.