Traditions

Alanna's post reminded me of a story of the baked ham tradition. It goes like this. A child asks her mother why she cuts off the ends of the ham every time she bakes it for Christmas dinner.

"Why, dear," says her mother, "you must always do so to bring out the best flavor of the ham."

"How did you learn that?, asks her daughter.

"Why, my mother taught me."

At Christmas dinner that evening the girl asks her grandmother, "Grand-mama, why do you cut off the ends of the ham before you cook it?"

Grand-mama replies, "Of course you must do that, it is the only way to cook a ham. My mother taught me this."

The next morning, in the nursing home, the girl asked her great-grandmother: Great Grand-mama, why do you cut off the ends of the ham before you cook it?"

After a long silence while Great Grand-mama gathered her strength to speak, she looked her granddaughter in the eye and replied: "Oh you silly girl, I did that because my roasting pan was too small to fit the whole ham."

Imagine if Alanna's parent's apartment had a short ceiling. Then we would be talking about the star that had no point at the top. I wonder what stories would be passed on from generation to generation in that event.

-- Billy