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I See the New Year from Here

We’re just a little over a day from New Year celebrations. This time of year always makes me think of my mom’s traditions for good and prosperity in the upcoming twelve months.

Before the stroke of midnight, Mom would set a loaf of bread and some dollar bills on our table to symbolize having plenty of food and money. At the arrival of the first of January, we would eat herring—usually herring in sour cream sauce. Fish scales represent coins, and fish swim in schools meaning abundance.

We always had noisemakers to celebrate too. My fondest memory of New Years is when I couldn’t have been older than five. We lived essentially next door to the East River in a borough of New York City. My parents woke me up to blow my New Year’s horn out the window. With every breath I blew into a shrill bleat, piercing the cold, still darkness, a horn bellowed from the river, answering me. A ship was nearby. I remember my parents laughing, and I was thrilled. Whoever was at that helm on the river at midnight, I’ll always fondly remember you.

Since moving to Virginia, I learned eating black-eyed peas is also lucky for a new year. My father-in-law served us delicious stewed tomatoes and black-eyed peas when my husband and I were visiting. I’m glad his son takes after him in the culinary department. I haven’t had to cook (unless I wanted to) for over twenty-five years :->

Here’s hoping all of you have an excellent 2022!!!

Happy Writing!

P.S. My next children’s book, My Cat, should debut in January or February.


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