I came across this old story I wrote for the Sherbrooke Record when I was working there in 2004. I thought I would repost since it’s the holiday season!

Enjoy! 🙂

A Lao family’s Christmas in Canada

I don’t really remember not having a Christmas without a decorated tree, lots of turkey and getting up early to open presents. When I was little though, I never did get presents from Santa even though I got perfect on my math timestables and had the most number of stars for reading the most number of books for many consecutive months at school. I always listened to what my parents said and I was a good little girl all year, but when it came time for Christmas, Santa always overlooked my hard work.

I came to realize (after I had finished being angry with Santa) that my parents just weren’t into everything that came with the holidays.

Every year, I would ask my dad what he wanted for Christmas. Every year, he would give the same answer: “It’s not my holiday, you don’t need to get me anything.”

I think he says this, one, because he wants me to save my money for more important things such as rent and food, and two, because he is a Buddhist from Laos. When you’re used to December being a nice 30 degrees outside and the sun is shining and you’re sitting on the front porch playing checkers in shorts and a T-shirt, I can see why getting excited about a big old man in red with reindeer during what you know will be a long, minus-40 degree winter is not on your list of things to look forward to.

Still, growing up in Canada, my family adapted to this country’s holidays. I guess my parents didn’t want us to be the only kids to go back to school and have nothing to say about the Christmas vacation.

Every now and then, I still get asked, “You’re Buddhist aren’t you? Do Buddhists celebrate Christmas?” Well, technically, my parents are Buddhist, not me, and yes, we celebrate Christmas because . . . well, because it’s the thing to do.

It’s like what Richard Gere said to Lisa Simpson when she was horrified of Christmas’s growing commercialism and converted to Buddhism to escape presents and festivities: Buddhism allows for the tolerance of other beliefs. (Thank goodness for us, ’cause I like getting presents, especially at Christmas!) But more than belief and religion, Christmas is an excuse for my family to get together at least once during the year.

Before my mom died in 2000, we celebrated the holidays in Cambridge, Ont. Normally it would be my two brothers and two sisters and my mom and dad, but some years we would have our extended family over on Christmas eve for a big Lao family party. My mom would make so much food including all of my favourites: red curry chicken, spicy papaya salad with big red chilli peppers (my sisters and I would have competitions on who could eat the most of it without reaching for a glass of water), sweet and sour soup, chicken laap (another spicy dish with diced chicken and lots of coriander and green onions) some spinach, squash and bamboo spicy soup and spicy lemon chicken feet. I have a feeling you’re all thinking the chicken feet dish is not so good – trust me, it’s delicious. I also have a feeling you’re all thinking we eat too much hot spice – you’re right, we do. But the turkey was never spicy; it was always marinated in oyster sauce with garlic and it always came out moist and juicy, just the way I like it.

I remember we would still be eating at midnight with all the children asking our parents if we could open just one present early. (We were never allowed to open a present and I never did meet Santa, even when I stayed up on those Christmas eves.)

My oldest sister Leeza has now taken over the family holiday plans. She makes just as much food and we all cram into her small house for the festivities. Last year we slept over on Christmas eve and when I woke up the next day at 7 a.m., I had a stocking (with my name on it and everything) waiting for me from Santa. I opened it up and there were all the things I asked for as a kid: Strawberry Shortcake, Hello Kitty, lots of candy. I was so excited.

My dad just watched us all open our stockings and shook his head while he was opening his. “You guys are crazy,” he said in Lao. “I can’t believe you go to all this trouble to fill the stockings.” With a smirk, he kept opening his presents until he came to one in particular: Elvis’s Greatest Hits CD. “Oh thank you!” he said. “Who bought this for me?”

“It’s from Santa,” we all said. He shook his head again and smiled as he continued opening his presents with my nine-year-old nephew, Edward. I could tell he was as excited as Edward was for Christmas, even though it wasn’t his holiday.