I say this with absolutely no resentment, judgement or shade of any variety, but simply to state a fact and eventually make a point: my mom was not a holiday person and going all out for celebrations and traditions was about as far from her love language as sitting on the floor and building legos with my kids is from mine. 

My mom didn’t decorate; I don’t play. Did she cook delicious holiday meals, welcome visitors into a clean home, and make sure to have thoughtful gifts under the tree and in our Easter baskets? Do I fill our home with open-ended toys and art supplies, read countless books, and encourage sibling relationships? A resounding yes to both. But I could always tell that my mom’s participation in holidays was far from her favorite way to spend time, and I don’t doubt that my children feel the same way about me, as far as play is concerned. 

I had about as privileged – not to mention charmed – a childhood as a person could get, with two loving parents, a supportive circle of extended family and friends, and socio-economic security. I don’t take any of this for granted, nor do I expect my mom to have gone above and beyond in all things, holidays included. So I don’t draw attention to her lack of interest in celebrating minor holidays (I grew up thinking of Valentine’s Day as a school party day, and that’s it) or her lack of enthusiasm over major ones (to this day I have the distinct sense that if my mom could bypass the entire month of December, she would) as an avenue for complaint. 

Rather, I paint a picture of my non-holiday-centric mom to highlight the thrill of a difference that I felt every year when we celebrated the Feast of St. Nicholas on December 6th. My mom generally didn’t do minor holidays, but every year, without fail, we told the story of St. Nicholas, the generous bishop who secretly gave gifts to those in need, on the vigil of his feast day. According to the story, one of his gifts landed in the shoes of the women he was helping, and the tradition of leaving shoes out to be filled with gifts was born. After hearing the story,  we put out our own shoes to be filled overnight and woke with delight on December 6th to find a treat – usually a book or small toy – waiting for us. For such a simple tradition, the joy was enormous.

I’m not sure where you fall on the spectrum of holiday appreciation, but whether you’re like me and want to do All The Holiday Things or like my mom and prefer None of the Holiday Things, celebrating Feast Day traditions is a simple way to introduce something new, out of the ordinary, and typically quite manageable into your family’s life. Because Feast Days haven’t been commercialized, you won’t be inundated by the pressure to buy more, decorate more, or somehow make the celebration bigger and better every year. Instead, Feast Days  invite you to do something small and meaningful simply because the Church has given you a reason to celebrate.

With that said, here are seven fascinating Catholic feast day traditions that you’ve probably never heard of but might feel drawn to celebrating.

Bless and light candles on Candlemas (Feb. 2)

Candlemas celebrates the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple, when Simeon recognizes the infant Jesus as a “light for revelation to the Gentiles.” The feast dates back to the early Church in Jerusalem, and by the fifth century it was being celebrated in Rome. At some point, the blessing and procession of candles became part of the celebration, giving the feast its familiar name, Candlemas.

You can bring a little of that tradition into your home by having everyone carry a candle to the dinner table, turn off the electric lights, and eat your meal by candlelight. The glow of the flickering flames takes about zero effort but feels cozy and magical. 

Bless throats on the Feast of St. Blaise (Feb. 3)

This one is wonderfully bizarre to children: two candles are crossed and held against your throat while you receive a blessing for protection from illness. The tradition comes from the story of St. Blaise, a fourth-century bishop and martyr who was said to have miraculously saved a boy who was choking on a fish bone. The candles themselves are traditionally the candles blessed the day before on Candlemas, connecting the two feast days. 

If your parish offers the traditional blessing, go get your throats blessed! Or, even if you don't have access to a parish blessing, you could tell the story of St. Blaise and make a special prayer for the health of your family part of the day.

Eat waffles on the Annunciation (March 25)

The Annunciation has become associated with waffles in Sweden thanks to a delightful linguistic accident. March 25 was traditionally called Vårfrudagen, or “Our Lady's Day.” Over time, the name began to sound like våffeldagen, or “Waffle Day,” and the two celebrations became intertwined. Today, Swedes eat waffles with jam and whipped cream on March 25. 

A waffle breakfast gives the kids an easy way to remember that something enormous happened on an otherwise ordinary day. As you eat, tell them the story of the angel Gabriel appearing to Mary and her courageous “yes.”

Pray for lost things on the Feast of St. Anthony of Padua (June 13)

St. Anthony is famously the saint to call when you've lost something. The tradition traces back to a story from Anthony's own life: he had a precious book of psalms containing his handwritten notes that disappeared when a novice left his religious community and took it with him. Anthony prayed, the novice returned the book, and eventually returned to religious life as well.

Make a little “St. Anthony, St. Anthony, come around; something's lost that can't be found” tradition in your house by naming the things you’ve lost in the past year and saying the prayer together. This tradition reminds children (and adults!) that the saints are not just figures from a textbook—they can become part of the very ordinary business of losing your shoes, your library book, or your keys.

Make a bonfire on St. John the Baptist’s feast (June 24)

St. John's Eve has traditionally been celebrated with bonfires across much of Europe. These fires have roots in older midsummer customs that were eventually incorporated into Christian celebrations surrounding the feast of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist. The fires aren't part of the formal Church liturgy, but they became a widespread folk tradition associated with the feast.

You can make this as simple as a backyard fire pit—or even a candlelit evening outside. Tell the children about John preparing the way for Christ, then gather around the fire, roast marshmallows, and enjoy one of the longest days of summer.

Write a prayer for someone you're worried about in honor of St. Monica (Aug. 27)

St. Monica is remembered particularly for her years of persistent prayer for her son Augustine, whose conversion she longed for. The Church's own account of her life describes her prayer and perseverance on behalf of Augustine as central to her story.

Have each family member write the name of someone they're praying for and then tuck it away (some place you’ll remember!) to revisit the prayers the following year. It is a simple way to give children a tangible experience of what it means to pray for someone over a long period of time.

Make lanterns to remember St. Martin of Tours (Nov. 11)

St. Martin's Day is celebrated with lantern processions throughout parts of Europe, especially Germany. The tradition has several possible roots: early Christian processions with lights, older November harvest customs, and the association of light with Martin's famous act of charity. In the Rhineland, the tradition has become a particularly beloved children's celebration, with homemade lanterns, songs, a procession, and often a bonfire.

Make paper lanterns, take an evening walk around the neighborhood, and tell the story of Martin cutting his cloak in half to share with a freezing beggar. You could even end your walk with hot chocolate or a little treat to share—because the heart of the tradition is not really the lantern itself, but bringing light and sharing what you have with someone else.

My mom didn’t need another holiday on the calendar, and honestly, neither do I. But there was something special about the few times each year when we did something completely out of the ordinary—like putting shoes outside our bedroom doors, or telling a story we wouldn’t have otherwise told. The Catholic calendar is full of these wonderfully strange little traditions, handed down through generations and just waiting to become part of your family’s story. You don’t have to invent a family tradition from scratch; someone centuries ago already did the work for you. All you have to do is put out the shoes, light the candles, make the waffles—and see what happens.