St. Nickolas Day

To most Americans, December 6th is just a regular ole day.

Not to me. December 6th is St. Nickolas Day. We clean our shoes (preferably boots). We put them in the window, leave out some cookies and milk for Santa, and go to bed with excitement. In the morning our shoes (and windowsills) are filled/covered with chocolate, peanuts, tangerines, other yummy treats, and small gifts.... and if you're bad....virgács: the "spanking stick."

As a child I remember thoroughly cleaning my shoes hoping Santa wouldn't find the smudge of dirt on the bottom that wouldn't come off even with soapy water and a scrub brush. I remember hoping that I wouldn't be the one to get the big virgács. I remember the magic of pulling back the curtains to reveal snow-covered Christmas lights that glistened, our awed reflections blocking the view, and our shoes dangerously perched on the edge of the windowsill threatening to topple off and spill their precious loot.

The first December 6^th away from home was rather strange. While we had another with the family, it wasn’t the same. Last year, however, it dawned on me that I could make this a tradition with my roommate. We both agreed to clean our shoes and be Santa for each other. However. It was late. We were both tired. It seemed like a hassle. So we went to bed.

The next morning, I was shocked to find that Bekah had done her research, and had recreated my precious St. Nickolas Day on my windowsill. I was blessed beyond belief.

This year, however, I wanted her to experience the magic. 

 So we cleaned our shoes (boots)!

 

 

And we waited.

And Santa didn't disappoint.

 

 

I'm blessed to have a friend and roommate who loves every part of me: including the part that thinks putting peanuts and chocolate in someone's shoes is a magical experience.