In much of Appalachia, Christmas didn’t always end when the wrapping paper was swept up. For some families, the real celebration waited quietly until January 6. They called it Old Christmas.
When I was growing up, we always went to my grandparents’ house for Christmas. There would be anywhere from twenty to thirty people crowded inside, with children packed in so tight it felt like the house could barely hold us all. The air buzzed with excitement as we waited for the moment when it would finally be time to open presents.
