Every family has a tradition for Christmas, whether it still happens today or used to happen a long time ago. And my family is no different. Though this tradition is no longer done, it is still my favorite tradition, and it's also my favorite memory.

My whole family from my dad's side would get together at one house, and we would just celebrate the holiday together. The holidays started on Christmas eve all the way till Midnight on Christmas day. The children and women would help decorate the house and get everything ready for the party while the men set up tables and chairs and did all the heavy lifting. I got to have all my cousins with me and we would play games and have fun. I can remember every laugh that was shared and all the crazy things that were said.

Outside various family members sat around a bonfire drinking and sharing stories. Laughter could be heard not only from them, but from the various kids running around playing hide and seek or marco pollo or just dancing to the music that was playing.

And right in the living room some of the uncles and cousins would be watching a soccer game yelling and screaming at the tv cheering every time their team made a goal. Right next to them was the Christmas tree with piles and piles of presents under the gleaming lights where little hands were attempting to find their presents. And under the table where all the sweets were you could see grabby hands propping out and stealing some deserts.

Throughout all these scenes more and more family would be coming in adding more laughter, stories, and joy. But one of the most magical moments was happening. Inside the kitchen you could find my great grandmother, my great aunts, my aunts, and my grandmother all working in the kitchen making tamales.

As a kid I would sneak into the dinning room and kitchen and just watch them. It was fascinating to watch them clean the corn husks and spread the masa on them that my great grandmother would be mixing with her hands. It was all done without thought and done with such love and care. As they cooked and put the different kinds of ingredients in the masa they would talk to one another telling stories of their childhood and just catching up. I would always hope that one day it would be me, my sisters, and cousins doing that one day. As the last tamale was folded and began to cook the rest of the food Christmas really seemed to begin.

Everyone eagerly waited for the food to be ready especially as the smell would waif throughout the house. Various people would be seen sneaking into the kitchen trying to sneak some tamales or other food into the stomachs. And of course get their hands slapped away if they weren't quick enough.

Then finally the food was ready! Everyone would run to the table that was set up and fill their plates with food stocking up on their favorite tamales and desserts (whatever ones the kids didn't already get). Plates of seconds and thirds would be filled as the three different tamale piles would go down (chicken was always my favorite). Soon everyone's stomach was filled and content with once again an amazing Christmas dinner. Now the only thing left was to open the presents at midnight when it would officially be Christmas Day.

Waiting on midnight, as a kid (and even as a semi-adult) was one of the most agonizing moments! We, the kids, would crowd around the Christmas tree looking at the presents covered in snowmen, candy canes, Santas, or bells restlessly wanting to tear open the presents (even the ones that weren't ours). We would go to our parents and my great grandmother asking if it was time yet. They would always tell us no we have to wait till midnight. We would groan and sit back at the tree or run off to play games hoping to make time go faster. And with what we thought was two-three hours later, we ran back into the house bursting with excitement, only to be faced with crushing disappointment that it was once again not midnight. We would do this about 2-3 times before we could not take it any longer. I mean can you really expect a kid to wait that long?!

We would run to whoever's house we were at and plead with them "Can we PLEASE start opening presents earlier?!" They would always say no sometimes laugh or sign with exasperation (this was probably not the first time we asked them) and say "We have to wait till midnight," but we were relentless. We saw them break each time we asked and so we planned.

We would try to reason to their adult logic with our obviously superior child logic. I mean once we explained to them why we should open the presents earlier they would obviously fold right? Right?!

We would sometimes choose a spokesperson because we knew all of us crowding around might not help. So that spokesperson would go up to the boss of the house (the rest of the kids shuffling behind trying to act like we weren't hungrily waiting to be told we won) and attempt to assuage the adult to let us open up presents before midnight. Our spokesperson would try everything "The sooner we open presents the sooner we will stop bugging you," "You must be tired and want to go to sleep if we open up the presents now people will begin to leave and you can go to bed," "If you let us open presents now we will help you clean up the house." (that one almost seemed to work). The adult obviously put up a front like they weren't budging, but we wouldn't stop, we were zealous in our pursuit to open up the presents.

"Come on [insert relatives name here], please?! What if we opened up the presents at 11? or 11:30? I mean what's the difference? Come on, please?!" The relative would sigh, really exasperated now, and look at the pleading face of the child and all the children behind their ambassador with their puppy dog faces and wide eyes. The other adults watching were laughing and had amusement all over their faces or some equally exasperated as the relative we were harassing. And the relative, the boss of the house, would make a decision.

Now this is where the tradition always changed depending on the relatives decision. If they said yes we, the kids, would cheer and hug that relative thanking them over and over and treat our success with more sweets. We would then have to wait till the allotted time at 11 or 11:30 (still agonizing, but hey better than midnight) and we would then crowd around the tree with our other relatives and parents eagerly waiting for the opening of presents to begin. Or we would have to wait for the agonizing, tortuous, excruciating time of midnight to arrive to open the presents. Whatever time we opened them, what followed next was the same.

Everyone would gather in the living room and surround the Christmas tree. There would be someone holding some trash bags for all the wrapping paper, someone would be grabbing the presents, and someone who would be passing them out. The kids would receive their presents first and they would tear into wrapping paper with exuberance squealing and running to whoever gave them gift thanking them. Once all the kids opened their presents it was the adults turn. They weren't as exuberant as the kids, but there may have been hints of excitement. In the end hugs were exchanged and the most difficult part began, saying goodbye.

It had to happen eventually, but it was a bittersweet. We'd all hug one another kissing each others cheeks promising to see each other soon and loading everything up in the car. Some stayed behind to help clean up and the kids who were part of that continued to play as others began to drift off. Eventually the house was cleaned up the kids picked up and put in the car and the last person drove home. When they would wake up the next morning they would celebrate Christmas with each other exchanging personal gifts, going to church, and then heading back to the house where Christmas eve was celebrated to help with leftovers.

This has always been my favorite tradition and though it eventually waned and no longer happened as much. But the memory of the tradition still remains and maybe one day it will be continued.