Mom’s Christmas Nut Roll

Quick update here: I'm on a blogging break until January 2nd. I wish you all a Happy New Year!


I’ve shared part of this story with a few of you. It’s about tradition, friendship, remembrance, and giving. One of the most wonderful and thoughtful Christmas presents that I have ever received was a nut roll.

Let me explain. Nearly 10 years ago, my mother passed away on a cold November day, just before Thanksgiving. I found myself totally depressed that she never knew that I had started writing, even though I had whispered it to her on her deathbed. She was the one who had always encouraged me to write. She knew I had a gift. She saved my essays, creative writings, and reports from school. She would always say, “Write, Laura. Just write.”

As Christmas approached that year after losing mom, I was feeling extremely blue. In my early years, I would know it was just a few days until Christmas by the smell of the house. My mom would make her divine Christmas nut rolls. The entire house was filled with this incredible nutty, sweet, doughy goodness.

The morning of the last day before winter break for my kids, I got up and rested on the couch while they were having breakfast. Suddenly, I was overcome by a smell of a baking nut roll. I know this sounds crazy, but I really did smell it. I thought perhaps I was dozing and dreaming, but I got up and asked the kids, “What is that smell? What are you making?”

“Nothing.”

I actually opened the oven expecting to see a pan of nut rolls baking.

“Don’t you guys smell something baking?”

“No, mom. You must be dreaming.”

“I swear I smell my mom’s nut roll.”

By this time, Eric had got up. I must have sounded convincing enough for him to come out to the kitchen to take a whiff.

“Loree, I don’t smell anything. You must be dreaming.”

Just as suddenly as it appeared, the smell went away. I sat on the couch with my coffee. I couldn’t believe what I had just experienced. I didn’t really understand it, or know how to digest it. It was just one of those strange moments in life…but then came the warm feeling. After the kids went to school, and hubby went to work, I was overwhelmed at what had happened. I cried, not with sadness and grief, but with a great joy. I knew, somehow, through God, that my mom knew that I was writing, and she was proud. However it came, or why, that smell was meant for me…and me only.

Now, I take you to five years later. I was with some friends, and we were talking about Christmas traditions. I mentioned about how I always knew it was two days to Christmas because my mother always made her nut roll.

“The house smelled wonderful with the rich aroma of Christmas nut roll. I wish I would have learned how to make it.”

That year, two days before Christmas, my dear friend brought me her homemade, unbaked nut roll for me to bake in my oven and fill my house with the aroma of a fond memory. Every year since, when my friend makes her Christmas nut rolls, she sends one over to me to bake— to remember my mom's Christmas tradition. It’s one of the most thoughtful gifts that I have ever received.

What about you? I would love it if you would share your favorite or most thoughtful gift.

Dear friends, I’m going to take a blogging break during the next two weeks to spend with my family and friends. I also plan to read Mind Over Madi by Lynda Schab. I had hoped to read it earlier this month, but I didn’t get to it as the holidays approached. I’ve heard nothing but great reviews on her book and look forward to the read. I will return with a post on the first Monday in January. In the meantime, I hope your holidays are filled to the brim with happiness and joy, hope, faith, and love. I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Between you, me and the gatepost,

Loree