Momma’s 12 Days of Christmas Presents The Lucky Pie by Anna of Murphy Must Have Had Kids

Being a full-time momma to two little ones means that Murphy’s Law is in full effect. All the time. Before kids, I taught grade one and figured that a few of my own children would be a cinch. HA. I blog at Murphy Must Have Had Kidsand connect through Facebook as well.

My grandma was a doctor’s daughter, one of seven children, from a big brick house in a tiny Canadian prairie town.  When we were kids, my brother and I cross-country skied across the frozen barley field from our farm to hers. As we neared her yard, we saw her silhouetted through the picture window in the living room. She dropped everything to  watch for us. Sometimes she even did a little dance, and my grandpa chuckled from his brown armchair in the corner. When we walked in that door, we were all that mattered.

When my grandma was a little girl in the 1920s, her family got the Eaton’s catalog in the mail. One year, her own grandma, “Namma”, ordered a box called a Lucky Pie. Little did she know, she would set in motion a Christmas tradition that has spanned almost 90 years in our family.

A Lucky Pie is a big, wrapped box with ribbons sticking out of the top. Each ribbon connects to a small wrapped gift inside, one for each person attending Christmas dinner. Usually, each person’s name is on a card taped to the end of their ribbon. There was often an extra ribbon or two, for when an unexpected guest showed up needing the warmth of a family at Christmas.

Right before supper, everyone gathered in a tight circle around the Lucky Pie and grasped a ribbon. All eyes turned to my grandma, and when we were quiet she started the chant: “One for the money. Two for the show. Three to get ready and go, man, go!” We pulled with all our might, excited to see what treasure was at the end of our ribbon. Sometimes the ribbons would get tangled up and we’d laugh and laugh as we sorted it all out.

The presents were little toys or knickknacks my grandma had collected all year and stowed away in her hall closet, things like mini-flashlights, Nestlé rosebud chocolates, tiny Swiss Army knives or brightly coloured nail polish. My uncle Andrew always told us we could swap gifts with each other if we didn’t like what we had received. You can imagine the chaos that created between my brother, my cousins, and I some years.

Last year was the first year both my children were old enough to participate in the Lucky Pie. As their tiny hands held the name tags, I swear I could smell the Yardley lavender soap my grandma always used. I yearn for just one more hug from her but she has been gone for more than four years now.

Some days I’d love to still be that little girl with braids in my hair, cocooned in the safety of my grandma’s house. But it’s my turn now to carry on our traditions. When I think of her example, it helps me squeeze just a little more patience out of a trying day with my own children, to give another hug instead of an admonition.

As kids, whenever we left her house, my grandma would stuff the pockets of our puffy winter jackets full of Christmas oranges, never letting us leave empty-handed. She taught me what it means to love unfailingly.

***Note from Momma: Leave a comment on any Momma’s 12 Days of Christmas post to be entered into a drawing for an Elf Pack, including prizes from, Godiva, Target, Amazon.com, and more! Happy Holidays and Good Luck! Earn an extra entry by giving $1 to mommabethyname@gmail.com at PayPal, to be donated to Anna’s designated charity or visit Anna’s blog.***