Tag Archives: holiday

Golden Eggs, Ham, and the “Easter Feeling”

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Every Easter, our entire extended family gathers at my grandmother’s house. There was never a formal reason–my grandma told me, “It just sort of ended up that way.” What began as a casual decision eventually solidified into tradition.

My Grandma recalled one of her favorite parts, “you kids would sprint through the backyard and living room for the Easter egg hunt. I loved it…” “…I always laughed at the fact that even though there were dozens of eggs filled with chocolate, you were all focused on the same thing: the ‘golden eggs…’” The golden eggs are indeed funny, there were always three of them–shiny, oversized plastic eggs that each held a five-dollar bill. We, as kids, didn’t really understand the value of five dollars back then. What mattered was the rarity. The golden eggs were sacred. We fought over them like little archaeologists hunting treasure, more excited by the idea of “winning” than by what was inside.

Later in the day, we’d all sit down for Easter dinner, always centered around a glazed ham. My grandma told me that it came from her father–“He always made a ham for Easter.” What she added, without ever needing to say so out loud, was the practice of everyone bringing something to the table. As the guest list grew each year, so did the variety of dishes. The potluck-style meal grew naturally out of necessity, but it came to define our Easter just as much as the egg hunt.

This last Easter was different. There was no egg hunt–there hasn’t been for a few years now–and the gathering wasn’t at Grandma’s house. Her home was damaged in the LA fires, and fewer people were able to come. Still, my grandma told me, “It still felt like Easter… There was family. There was laughter. And there was ham.”

Context

This tradition was expanded upon to me by my grandmother, who reflected fondly on years of hosting Easter at her home. She admitted that it wasn’t originally her intention to become the family’s “Easter matriarch”–it just happened. Over time, her home became the default gathering spot, and rituals formed naturally around that consistency.

She described the joy of watching us as children during the egg hunts, laughing at how seriously we took the hunt for the golden eggs. Though she couldn’t recall when or why that part of the tradition started, it clearly took on a life of its own. The money inside the eggs was never the point–it was the prestige, the shimmer, the chase. Something she[and I] looks back on now with warm nostalgia.

The dinner evolved more deliberately. She explained that her father always served ham on Easter, and when she began hosting, she continued that tradition. Over time, guests began bringing dishes of their own. She never asked them to–it just became understood. In her words, “It was never about telling people what to bring. It just made sense.” The gathering grew, the table expanded, and Easter became an informal but deeply rooted expression of our family’s thread that ties us all together.

Even after being unable to enter her home[thankfully not burnt down], and despite the changing logistics and attendance, she expressed a deep certainty: the “Easter feeling” had nothing to do with eggs or décor. It was about presence, food, and connection.

Analysis

This entry illustrates how informal rituals, when repeated and emotionally reinforced, evolve into meaningful family folklore. What began as a loose gathering became tradition through consistency and emotional investment. The Easter egg hunt, the golden eggs, and the communal meal are all ritualized behaviors that define Easter–not by religious observance, but by shared memory and performance.

The “golden egg” tradition, though not rooted in ancient folklore, mirrors folkloric patterns–assigning symbolic value to a rare object and embedding it in a playful competition. As with many children’s traditions, the meaning wasn’t in the literal reward, but in the emotional significance, the role-playing, and the storytelling that followed. It reflects how children interact with tradition through symbolism, scarcity, and status–concepts that resonate across many cultural customs.

Similarly, the evolution of the Easter meal highlights adaptive ritual: how tradition grows through informal negotiation. The potluck-style dinner wasn’t dictated–it arose organically, responding to shifting family size and resources. This mirrors how many communal folk practices begin: organically, in response to need, but later sustained by emotional investment.

The somewhat loss of the family home due to the LA fires introduces another layer: how tradition persists even in the absence of its physical setting. My grandmother’s insistence that “it still felt like Easter” reveals a truth about folklore–it’s less about place or object, and more about feeling, continuity, and presence. Even stripped of its original setting, the tradition held. And that endurance–the “Easter feeling”–is the most folkloric element of all.

Green Toilet Water & Leprechaun Traps: A St. Patrick’s Day Home Ritual

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Every St. Patrick’s Day, my informant’s family embraced a quirky tradition that transformed their house into a playful leprechaun hideout. When he was a child, he would wake up to find all the toilet water in the house dyed bright green. Sometimes the milk in the fridge was green too. The explanation? “The leprechauns must have peed in the toilet!” his parents told him, turning what might seem odd or gross into a magical sign of leprechaun mischief.

Beyond the household pranks, his school also took part in the fun. In elementary school, he and his classmates were encouraged to build “leprechaun traps,” small craft projects designed to catch the elusive creatures and, hopefully, earn a share of their gold. He remembers one trap in particular: “I painted it green, gave it a rainbow, and included a miniature pot of gold filled with plastic coins.” The traps were never successful–leprechauns, after all, are notoriously tricky–but they added to the sense of enchantment that surrounded the holiday each year.

Context
My informant recalled these traditions as part of his early childhood, especially between the ages of 5 and 9. He explained that the green toilet water and milk were surprises that would appear the morning of March 17th–small, imaginative gestures from his parents meant to keep the magic of the holiday alive. Though the tradition wasn’t linked to any religious or cultural identity in his household, it functioned as an annual burst of fun, one that made St. Patrick’s Day feel special even without a major family gathering or party.

At school, the leprechaun traps were an institutionalized form of holiday play, guided by teachers who framed it as a creative art activity. While the traps themselves were never functional, the idea that something magical might have visited the classroom overnight added an element of suspense and wonder. Though my informant no longer celebrates the holiday in the same way, these memories stood out as defining childhood moments–both silly and strangely memorable.

Analysis
This home custom illustrates how American families often adapt holidays like St. Patrick’s Day into playful, child-centered rituals that rely heavily on imagination, mischief, and material transformation. Though St. Patrick’s Day is originally rooted in Irish Catholic tradition, its contemporary celebration in the U.S.–particularly among non-Irish families–often takes the form of secular, creative play.

The dyed toilet water and milk represent a kind of “domesticated folklore,” where parents intentionally alter everyday environments to encourage a suspension of disbelief. The joke that “leprechauns have green pee” serves both as an explanation and a storytelling device, keeping the legend alive in absurd, humorous form. This aligns with broader traditions of holiday trickery, such as the Tooth Fairy leaving glitter or Santa eating cookies–actions that bridge folklore with parental performance.

The leprechaun traps, meanwhile, connect to a form of children’s ritualized play that blends belief with craft. These projects teach children to imagine, to hope for magical outcomes, and to participate in a shared cultural game–even if they know the payoff is imaginary. In this way, the practice reinforces values like creativity, humor, and seasonal anticipation, all while fostering a sense of community through parallel rituals at home and school.

Ultimately, this custom demonstrates that even informal, low-stakes traditions can hold deep folkloric meaning. They reflect how modern families re-enchant the everyday, turning plumbing and plastic coins into touchpoints for wonder, bonding, and shared memory.

Christmas Crowns, Cracker Jokes, and “Reindeer Poop”

Word of Mouth From my Mother

If you didn’t notice son, Christmas is a carefully choreographed tradition–I like to think of it as a mix of cozy ritual, a bit of British custom, and some parental magic. Every year, we manage to host your aunts, uncles, grandparents, and family friends under one roof, crowding them around a long dinner table for a meal that never changes: your father’s signature roast, buttery potatoes, and whatever else[she talked about as these dishes seeming to appear out of nowhere but feeling like they’ve always belonged]…

…You remember the main custom, before the meal begins, we all pop Christmas crackers, wear the paper crowns, and tell the corny jokes or trivia questions. Everyone has to wear their crown, no exceptions. [Something of a silent rule.] Inevitably, [Uncle name] brings the energy to the meal as he tries to guess the answer to someone else’s riddle before they finish reading it. It’s chaotic, silly, and comforting–exactly how it’s supposed to be…

…Remember on Christmas eve, we’d leave out a plate of cookies and a glass of milk for Santa, and you and your sister would go to bed, your father and I would leave out a few wrinkled dates in the front yard as “reindeer poop.” We’d also make sure that before Every Christmas morning, no matter how old you two[me and my sister] got, the milk would be half-drunk, the cookies nibbled, and the dates scattered. Even now, when you all know the “truth,” we still put the plate and dates out. It’s tradition…

Context

I interviewed my mom about our family’s Christmas rituals, and she lit up almost immediately. “It’s the one time of year when everyone is just… there,” she said. For her, Christmas was always about creating a sense of continuity–blending traditions from her own childhood with the new ones she and my dad created when we were young. The paper crowns and Christmas crackers come from my dad’s British side of the family, and they’ve been part of every holiday she can remember. “You can’t not wear the crown. It’s just part of the meal,” she joked.

She described how she and my dad would take turns arranging the Santa plate late at night–taking a careful bite of the cookies, sipping the milk just right, and tossing a few dates in the yard to complete the illusion.

These rituals weren’t grand or showy, but they were performed with deep consistency. Even now, with the kids grown, my parents still go through the motions–not because we believe, but because we remember.

Analysis

This Christmas tradition is an excellent example of domestic folklore: habitual, symbolic acts carried out within the family to affirm identity, belonging, and memory. While none of the individual actions–crackers, roast, Santa plates–are unique on their own, the specific combination of these elements, repeated year after year, becomes a form of narrative performance that binds the family together.

The Christmas crackers and paper crowns reflect a cultural carryover from British holiday customs, adapted into the family’s American context. They serve as both props and prompts–each one delivering not just a joke but a shared experience. The insistence on everyone wearing the crowns transforms a simple object into a badge of belonging, and the ritualized groaning at jokes adds a performative dimension to the meal.

The Santa cookies and “reindeer poop” represent another key aspect of holiday folklore: magical realism within childhood belief systems. These actions deliberately blur the line between fiction and reality, giving children something to believe in while also offering parents a way to perform care and wonder. Even as belief fades, the actions remain–now functioning not as proof of Santa, but as proof of love and continuity.

In this sense, the tradition has matured alongside the family: once a tool of imagination, it now functions as a nostalgic ritual that reaffirms connection across time. The ongoing performance of the Santa plate–even when no one is fooled–embodies the essence of folklore: shared meaning enacted again and again, not because we need to believe, but because we want to remember. It’s part of the ties that bind our family together and I will definitely continue this tradition–if not add onto it–with my own kids when the time comes.

Seollal (Korean New Year)

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Seollal is the first day of the Lunar New Year in Korea. On Seollal, you bow to your elders, play games, and visit your hometowns. Seollal(설날) is the Korean New Year, usually falling in mid-February. It is one of Korea’s biggest holidays, with many people taking several days off of work to spend time with families. Often, people travel back to their hometowns or visit family members/in-laws. There is also a ritual called sebae(세배), where people bow deeply before their elders and wish them a happy new year and good fortune, and in turn the elders give them money in envelopes.

Context:

The informant, having lived in Korea their whole life, participated in Seollal every year. At first, they were the ones to bow to their elders and receive money, but as they grew older, they began to be the ones to sit as their younger family relatives bowed.

Interpretation:

There is a lot of emphasis on filial piety, and more than that, respect for your elders and your ancestors. For example, you lay out food for your ancestors at the table or a memorial/shrine. I feel like there is a major emphasis on Confucian piety in Korean culture, as well as a reminder of the strength found in community. When you bow to your elders on Seollal, it is more than a bow–you are literally on your knees, head on the ground, essentially showing utmost reverence and respect for the elders’ wisdom and impact on your life. You(as the younger person) have the responsibility to visit your hometown, your origin, not the other way around, showing the idea that you never truly leave your family behind, which is a foundational concept in Confucianism. Through this practice, families reaffirm their connection to the past and show gratitude and respect to their ancestors and elders.

Foods like tteokguk (rice cake soup) are essential to Seollal. Eating tteokguk is believed to symbolically grant one a year of age, connecting food rituals to the passage of time. Furthermore, traditional clothing like the hanbok and folk games like yutnori also play a role, reinforcing cultural identity and intergenerational learning. This latter point is especially important; as Korea quickly evolves to match the demands of modernity, many traditional aspects of Korea’s culture are at risk of disappearing or losing their value. By participating in holidays such as Seollal, families are teaching the future generation the importance of remembering their history and culture.

The Symbol of the button down

Nationality: American
Age: 19
Occupation: College Student
Residence: Bay Area
Language: English

Text

Every Easter, the informant and his brothers always wear either pink or blue button down dress shirts. We did this to show our Easter Spirit as we would wake up early to go to 9 am mass.

Context

They are Christian Catholics and take these holidays seriously as it is tradition to dress this certain way, it is proper, and respectful to the values and ideals in the informant family as well as the holiday. The informants family tries to do this “costume or dress code” every year as the color blue represents purity, the Virgin Mary, and heavenly grace. Moreover, wearing Pink symbolizes a liturgical color used on Laetare Sunday, the fourth Sunday of Lent. 

Analysis

I am also Christian Catholic so when listening to this story I was able to make some connections. Related to the symbolism of the colors blue and pink, I feel as though when thinking about Easter I associate those colors with it and visualize it with those. When I was younger I didn’t realize these colors had meanings to them until I was older and started to learn about them. Easter decor that is sold in stores is usually presented in these colors. Also lots of colors in society have symbolic meanings to them but also it may vary for cultures. Vaz da Silva’s article demonstrates color symbolism, such as colors in movies. It shows how we have expanded and modernized color symbolism and its involvement in specific things.