Tradition, by definition, implies a sturdy longevity when, in fact, it is one of the most fragile and dynamic concepts I can think of. Fragile because traditions need to be tended to and treated with care in order to endure. Dynamic because they morph with each generation that chooses to carry them forward.

On one hand, I’m grateful for this fragile malleability. Not all traditions have equal or positive outcomes for the people who are part of them, in which case, we are fortunate that traditions evolve. On the other hand, maintaining and sustaining healthy traditions takes work, and when we don’t do the work, traditions can and will be lost.

The winter holiday season is especially ripe with tradition. Just stop and think of your own holiday traditions. They don’t seem fragile at all, do they? They’ve endured for generations, right? In fact, I would bet most of us think of our traditions as powerful touchstones in our families, religions and cultures.

I agree. They are powerful. Traditions make us feel connected to our past, grounded in the present and somehow more knowing about our future.

Making Kolachi bread during the winter holiday season has been a tradition in my family for the last 45 years. It started as a gift to my family from my older brother’s future mother-in-law. My mom loved this sweet German nut bread so much she immediately asked for the recipe and turned it into a family Christmas tradition.

Making this bread was a labor of love requiring attention from sunup to sundown. Mom always made the dough with 12 ½ cups of flour — no more, no less. The giant dough ball had to sit and rise for hours before it could be divided into eight chunks that would eventually become the loaves of Kolachi we would share with neighbors and eat on Christmas morning.

I remember helping chop the pecans and walnuts that got turned into a paste and spread onto the eight rectangles of flattened dough before rolling them up like a jelly roll. The unbaked loaves were placed on large baking sheets, covered with cotton dish towels and carried downstairs to rise near the coal stove that heated our house in the winter.

Hours later, once the loaves were finally in the oven, only two loaves at a time, the house would be filled with the smell of Christmas! This sweet nut bread signaled the start of the holiday season.

Thanks to the U.S. Postal Service, my kids were able to grow up in my mom’s tradition, associating Kolachi with Christmas even though we lived 2,000 miles across the country. After Mom passed away, Kolachi at Christmas came to a screeching halt … at least for me.

I’ve since learned that tradition is as sturdy as the people with whom it is intertwined and, fortunately, I come from a sturdy people — those who have come before and after me.

You see, in December 2020, eight years after Mom’s passing, my niece, Sarah, invited me to make Kolachi with her via Zoom. Through that technology, my niece empowered me to reestablish my mom’s tradition within my own household.

This year, just like the three years that came before, my daughter, Michaela, helped make and spread the nut paste just like I did with my mom decades ago. Her partner, Jared, helped mix and knead less than 12 ½ cups of flour into a perfect dough, which I always cover with a cotton dish towel and let rise by the natural gas fireplace that helps heat my house in the winter.

Traditions last as long as we are committed to passing them on. And sometimes this transmission of tradition isn’t always as linear of a process as we would expect, passing from an older to a younger generation. Sometimes it’s the generations that come after us who remind us of the value and importance of what has come before.

I’m grateful for the younger generation of tradition-keepers in my family who inspire and empower me, someone who now represents the older generation, to do my part in tending to the fragility of a favorite family tradition. I appreciate the enhancements each of them bring to the process, keeping our tradition rich and dynamic.

This holiday season, may your favorite traditions maintain your connection with those who have come before, sustain you and your loved ones in the present, and evolve with whomever you find yourself in the future.

Brenda Marsteller Kowalewski is a sociologist and vice provost for High Impact Educational Experiences, Faculty Excellence, International and Graduate Programs at Weber State University.

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