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Christmas in the Tropics of Australia Taught Me It’s Okay to Break Tradition

Especially if it means celebrating in ways that are more meaningful to you

Carly Newberg
Globetrotters

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Me, my Australian sister, and one of the world’s best dogs, Sancho. Photo by author.

Nearly every Christmas throughout my life has looked similar. Wake up, open stockings and gifts around the tree, and get ready for a massive turkey or ham dinner — usually no later than 3 in the afternoon.

As a kid, my brother and I would excitedly rush to the foot of mom and dad’s bed, where we’d begin opening our stockings as early as 5 am. Mom and dad would then go back to bed, and we’d impatiently sit in the living room and try to guess what was in each package under the lit up tree.

My favorite gift as a kid was one too big to fit in a box — a hot pink Mongoose bicycle; the same one I would, as a teenager, spray paint black and purple to appear more edgy and mature.

Growing up, you knew what to expect each Christmas, which never felt like a bad thing. It went by fast and sometimes felt rushed, but it kept you eager for the next year.

I was eight years old when my parents separated, which shook things up a bit. The magic of Christmas was never quite the same after that, but my mom and dad both did their best to make it special and keep past traditions.

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