Chapter Thirteen

'No worries, son. It won't be cold,' my grandmother reassured with her warmest smile as she poured tea for everyone. 'Would you like milk or sugar?' She turned to my father and asked.

'According to our tradition, everyone should have a little of each,' my father replied, chuckling. 'Half a spoon of sugar and a splash of milk.'

Laughter erupted at my father's response. My grandmother gazed at the happy faces of her children and grandchildren, feeling grateful for everything. What began as a simple meal due to a lack of Christmas provisions had transformed into a joyous family tradition.

In the background, Bruce Springsteen's Santa Claus is Coming to Town played from the music player, filling the air with a soothing melody.

'Beatrice, help me with the biscuits,' my grandmother beckoned to my mother. Overwhelmed with joy, my grandmother's wrinkled face radiated bliss.

'Of course, mother-in-law,' my mother responded, rising from her seat. She assisted in serving the biscuits while my grandmother poured tea for everyone. My mother looked stunning in her beautiful blue dress, her hair flowing freely.

Everyone was dressed in new clothes. My grandmother wore our traditional Igbo attire, looking simple yet elegant. My father, too, donned Igbo traditional attire, exuding magnificence akin to that of a dignified king.

'Tea is ready,' my grandmother exclaimed excitedly, finishing the pouring of tea. Taking her seat, she faced me. With closed eyes, we all bowed our heads, embracing a moment of silence. Then, my grandmother said the grace, and in unison, we all said 'Amen' before indulging in our tea and biscuits.

As I lifted the tea to my thin pink lips, I glanced around, recalling the story my grandmother had shared with my sister and me about the origins of our Christmas tea tradition. This was my village, the place where we all celebrated Christmas together. It was the very house that birthed our first Christmas tradition. It was where my grandmother, grandfather, parents, siblings, uncles, and aunts gathered to celebrate Christmas. Even those family members who couldn't make it to the village for Christmas due to circumstances beyond their control upheld their own Christmas tea tradition, wherever they were.

The tradition of drinking bamboo tea with biscuits had persisted for ages: afternoon tea promptly at 12 o'clock. Before venturing off to our respective destinations, we would come together as a family to share bamboo tea.

This tradition began long before I was even born. My grandmother had recounted that during one Christmas, which served as the catalyst for this beautiful tradition, there was no money to buy food for the traditional Christmas dishes. The aroma of other families' cooking permeated the air, while her own kitchen remained devoid of any signs that today was Christmas.