This story is a childhood memory of my mother and her sisters, whose deep bonds and holiday traditions brought warmth and joy to our family.
The Monti sisters—Olga, the oldest; Albert, their only brother; Vera, Marie, Franny, and the twins, Martha Jo and Margaret (who they lovingly called "Babe" since she was the last to be born)—had come a long way from their roots in the small coal mining town of Western, Pennsylvania. Though their hometown was far behind them, the bond between them remained as strong as ever. Now, they lived scattered across the city, each sister with her own family and life, but nothing could break the traditions they had built over the years.
The Monti sisters had always been big on celebrating the holidays, especially Christmas. It all began the moment Thanksgiving dinner ended at Olga’s house, where the family gathered every year. Olga, the most well-off of the sisters, had the largest home and a husband who was a chef, which meant Thanksgiving dinner was always grand. The table was always set formally, with every detail attended to, yet the true warmth of the evening came from the laughter and chatter of the family, who filled the space with their joy.
After the meal, the Christmas season officially began with the Monti family’s annual Pollyanna drawing. Growing up with humble beginnings, the family knew that Christmas wasn’t about extravagant gifts but about the thought and care behind them. Over the years, the drawing had become a cherished tradition. There was one for the adults and another for the nieces and nephews, giving everyone a chance to participate. The exchange wasn’t just a way to give gifts—it was a reminder of their love and togetherness, no matter how much life had changed.
On Christmas Eve, the sisters and their families took turns hosting the evening’s gathering. The homes were warm with the scent of pine and fresh-baked cookies, and the sisters would share stories, memories, and a drink or two. Though the years had passed and they no longer lived in the same place, these moments together were as familiar as ever.
Christmas Day always brought the family back together at Olga’s home. It was there they would enjoy Christmas dinner, and the gift exchange would take place. The children eagerly unwrapped their presents, while the adults—laughing and reminiscing—watched the joy unfold. It was chaos in the best way, the kind only a large, close-knit family could create. And though Martha Jo, who lived in the mountains, couldn’t always make the long trip to join them, her presence was felt in the stories and the memories they shared of her.
Then, as the year ended, the Monti sisters would once again gather for New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day, taking turns hosting in their respective homes. It was never as grand as Christmas, but it held its own charm, filled with shared meals, stories, and the simple pleasure of being together.
While it is not the way things are done today, in those days, the women did much of the work, preparing and cleaning up after the meals while the men settled in to watch football. Yet, despite the passing of time and the changes in their lives, the bond between the Monti sisters remained unwavering. They had come from modest beginnings, but they had always had each other, and it was that unbreakable connection that made every holiday meaningful. Even now, living in the city, the sisters knew that no matter how far apart their lives took them, the heart of their family would always beat strongest when they were together.
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