The vast cultural differences between my mother, a Canadian born and raised woman, and my father, a South African born and raised man, always became particularly prevalent around Christmas. This magical time of year holds many of the fondest childhood memories I have of my parents merging their respective cultures, traditions, and values. Every December, my mother would sing carols while decorating the Christmas tree; my father would dance, in his cultural fashion, to beat of her merry tune. Playful bickering about whether Christmas was better spent in the beauty of the snow or underneath the hot sun would arise as the two of them strung lights outside. When it was time to cook Christmas Eve dinner, my mother would insist on typical Canadian