Hi guys, how nice to share in this Christmas creative writing initiative, with my friends of the Coffee community, regarding this week's topic my family and I celebrated Christmas as a tradition, we all gathered at my parents' house, with our children, nephews, nieces and sons and daughters in law, the house was full and it was a very pleasant atmosphere.
The appointment was on December 23rd where everyone left their pending to go to my parents' house to prepare the hallacas, everyone had their part in the preparation, my mom prepared the stew and my dad was in charge of kneading the corn flour and tie all the hallacas that the rest of us were assembling.
He already had the recipe of how to make it so it would be perfect.
We all collaborated in different tasks, it was that day because my parents were celebrating their wedding anniversary and the Christmas celebration continued.
It has been four Decembers now where coincidentally on December 23rd my mom left with God, coinciding with her wedding anniversary and what was once a date of joy became a date of sadness.
Many moons and suns have passed since that night, the mother's house was sold, and each brother began to celebrate his own Christmas, to make his own hallacas and to receive his own new year.
Last December I was sad because of the date and because I had no money to make the hallacas, I missed my mother, those times with my brothers and I started to cry, shortly after my eldest son came home from work with all the ingredients to make the hallacas and he put them on the kitchen counter and told me "we are going to eat hallacas, so let's make the stew", it was about 11 o'clock at night and the next day we both had to work.
He told me "make coffee, we are going to bed late today and put on those bagpipe music that you like to set the Christmas mood, there is no need to be sad, grandma is here with us".
We made the stew and I let it cool to go to work at noon and come to assemble the hallacas, but my son would arrive at night as well as my husband and my little children were more focused on playing than eating, I felt sad and lonely, each of my brothers was doing his own thing.
I started to prepare a coffee and I told myself that when it's my turn, I took out all the ingredients ready to make it alone and suddenly my doorbell rang, it was my dad who had come to my apartment, he told me exaggerating and with a smile "Mija those smells of freshly brewed coffee reached my house, those smells made me crazy, and as I am now wandering, I came to see if you accept the company of this old man at your house".
"I was very happy to see him and I hugged him, I told him that he arrived just in time to help me make the hallacas and that I had just poured that cup of coffee just for him.
From that moment on, the atmosphere lit up with joy and between laughter and anecdotes we remembered the way my mom used to make the hallacas and he told me the best moments he lived with her.
He didn't know or believe in Christmas until she taught him and now he missed those days and wanted to continue being useful kneading and tying the hallacas, he wanted her to see that he continued to do a good job.
My dad said he felt her presence in that place and it was wonderful to recall his life in the company of several cups of coffee with hallaca stew and cassava.
I share with much affection my unforgettable emotional Christmas experience accompanied by several cups of hot, sweet and strong coffee, I'm @yelimarin and we'll read each other in a future post.
The images are my own, taken with my Xiaomi Redmi 9A cell phone, I used the Translator DeepL, and the InSop App for the cover photo.
