As we sat in the warm apartment, with delightful foods spread out before us and drinks to celebrate the season, we got to talking about old traditions. Our experiences were different - even the brothers who were merely two years apart in age had varying recollections of how Christmas was celebrated while they were growing up - but there were many similarities and I would guess that most of the people we knew had traditions that were just the same.
Then the conversation turned to new traditions... starting with the two of us that had a child to share in those traditions, and then spreading out to the possible traditions of the other two who had inklings of children in their future. And I loved that conversation. The strong opinions and the vague ideas. The clear answers and the questions that still remain questions. The thoughtful disagreements and the compassionate compliments. It was not a sermon, it was a dialogue. It was not a series of statements, it was an exploration of what could be.