New Year’s Eve was exciting when I was a child up to early teens. There were traditions, like being the first to say Happy New Year to your parents or calling them on the phone if they were out at a friend’s celebrating, I would dial all the numbers (on a rotary phone of course) and not release the last number until the stroke of midnight and beat my father to wish my mom Happy New Year.

But the real excitement (for me at that time) was beating my sister to reach my father so he could bless me for the New Year. I would kneel in front of him wherever he was in the house and he would make the sign of the cross over my head and then kiss me on my forehead.

We were only two in the family so it was not really a grand event. In my mom’s family there were seven children and they would all gather in the living room on New Year’s Day and GrandPapa would bless them as well as my grandmother.   It was sort of like a good omen for the new year. I suppose if you went to mass or church services and the minister or priest blessed you before you left it might feel the same but New Year’s was special for that reason for me.

children kneel in wait

in the name of the Father,

blessing a New Year

(c) Tournesol ’14

Carpe Diem Haik Kai