We have a few traditions that carry us through the long holiday season, but this year it felt like we were stumbling through them instead of savoring them.
Our family usually kicks things off with a trip to the Christkindlmarket in Carmel, Indiana, a festive spot modeled after traditional German Christmas markets.
The smell of brats slow roasting over an open fire fills the air, and the raclette stand sends waves of melted, pungent cheese drifting through the crowd. It’s impossible not to arrive hungry.
But what really draws us is the ice skating in Carmel. The rink sits at the center of the market, wrapped by booths, lights, and music. Since Terre Haute doesn’t have a rink, we make the drive every year. Skating, paired with German food and treats, has become the moment the Christmas season officially begins for us.
Cherokee and the kids lace up their skates while H and I usually find a heater to huddle under so I can take photos. I’m always cautious because of the herniated discs in my neck, but M talked me into skating last year. Sometimes kids need these memories, and sometimes the risk is worth it.
How Our Christkindlmarket Tradition Started
This tradition actually began when Cherokee and I were dating. We visited the Chicago Christkindlmarket, but the shoulder‑to‑shoulder crowds made it hard to enjoy. The next year—our first Christmas as a married couple—we tried Carmel instead, and we’ve gone back every year since.
The Year the Wind Shut Everything Down
We reserved our skating time for the day before Thanksgiving. The forecast called for strong winds, but we didn’t think much of it. About fifteen minutes from the market, the notification came through: cancelled. Then another message said delayed. Then another said cancelled again.
The market itself was closed until 5 p.m. because of the wind. Skating could be rescheduled—just not for that day. And there wasn’t another time before Christmas when all the kids would be together. Ugh.
We regrouped and compromised with the kids: we’d still go ice skating in Indiana, just not in Carmel this year. They were surprisingly onboard. Cherokee and I still went to the market for a little day date, but it just wasn’t the same without the kids. Maybe I should have grabbed a steaming hot glühwein, but honestly, the magic was missing without them.
When Traditions Shift
Every family tradition eventually hits a year that doesn’t go as planned. This was ours. But even in the disappointment, there was a reminder tucked inside it: traditions aren’t really about the place, the food, or even the activity. They’re about who’s standing beside us when we do them.
We’ll try again next year—maybe back in Carmel, maybe somewhere new. Either way, the tradition isn’t broken. It’s just evolving, the way families do.