Far too often, we don’t truly appreciate traditions when we’re living them in the moment. This is especially true for those traditions observed during the holiday months.

When I was little, we would spend every Christmas Eve at the home of my maternal grandparents. Often, my parents, younger brother and I would be the first to arrive (and thus the first to get to the candy dish and munch on some chocolate peanut clusters, which Grandma made every Christmas). My aunts, uncles and cousins would trickle in right before the meal was served. We didn’t carve up a ham for the entrée – no, no, we were yuletide rebels who enjoyed tender, smoked brisket on little cocktail buns instead.

But the highlight of the entire evening – well, at least for the adults – was the completion of the small nativity scene that sat under the equally small Christmas tree in the living room.

Every Christmas Eve, my grandparents would put the baby Jesus figurine in an adjacent room, and it was the job of the youngest grandchild to carry the figurine into the living room and gingerly place it under the Christmas tree while everyone else watched. Eventually, this tradition evolved, and every year, the grandchildren took turns being the bearer of the savior. We grandchildren joked about how embarrassing the entire show felt as we shuffled our way toward the base of the tree, a chorus of “ooohs” and “aaahs” meeting our ears.

As an adult, however, I’ve come to appreciate the presence of such traditions. I know plenty of people who never had the opportunity to enjoy those with their family, and even those who didn’t have much of a family to begin with. Now, I feel fortunate that we youngsters were able to make our elders smile and feel surrounded by God’s presence. It’s still a memory my brother and I share every Christmas.