Magical Memories

In 2002, we constructed Hogwarts Castle.

Winter is when we're all feeling about as hungry as a bear who's been sleeping in a cave all winter with nothing to gnaw on except maybe a few lost field mice. So what do we do? We eat, sleep, eat, and then work out so we can eat even more—or maybe that's just me. I'm not complaining, though. I like food as much as the next starving college student. Appropriately, one of my favorite times of the year is when my family makes gingerbread houses.

I remember Mom running around the kitchen making gingerbread and taking long trips to the grocery store to carefully select only the most festive and colorful candies. I can feel the slippery tube in my hand as I carefully pump frosting out  to glue all the edible pieces together, like a giant, 3D jigsaw puzzle.  We dart around, nibbling imperfect slabs of gingerbread still warm from the oven. Our faces turn white as ghosts' as we slather powdered sugar on the square glass bases that hold the houses. One of my sisters took a little too much delight in acting out snowball battle scenes with the tiny gingerbread men and causing chaos and casualties all across the kitchen table. From under the table, a pair of begging puppy eyes stare me down until, when Mom isn't looking, I sneak crumbs to them.

I loved being an interior decorator for a day and furnishing the houses. There were exquisite decorations, such as licorice rugs and gumdrop reindeer heads (complete with pretzel antlers) above the fireplaces. There have been years where Santa has visited the gingerbread rooftops and little doghouses have been in the yard.

Our most legendary gingerbread house was not a house at all—it was a castle! Because we are Harry Potter nerds, we created a Hogwarts castle, complete with Whomping Willow. We even added little Harry Potter toys to populate it with witches and wizards. Making it was tricky (some might even say magical), but it was totally worth it.

Making gingerbread houses is one of my favorite family traditions. However (and pardon my cheese), my family hasn't just created dozens of gingerbread houses over the years—we also created memories that have lasted a lot longer than the gingerbread did.