Jean Shepherd isn't the only one who has "A Christmas Story."

Journal readers shared some of their sweet memories of holidays past. They recalled family traditions and special, once-a-year meals. Some are charmingly old-fashioned.

Other stories remembered the challenges of being young and just starting out and making different traditions a family affair.

What they have in common are the smiles they bring. 

"Our family has a wonderful tradition of gathering on the weekend before Christmas to make "the ribbons,"  wrote Paula Bolig of Cranston. She and her six siblings all got  together year after year.

They made what she described "a hand-shaped rose of thinly rolled dough that is deep-fried and served drizzled with honey."

"Until the pandemic, we’d never missed a year of all being together," she said.

"It takes a team to make the dough, roll it in the macaroni machine many times, cut and shape it, deep fry and drain it on paper towel in laundry baskets. We generally make three bushels." 

"My husband Richard resisted the family chaos, and always chose to stay home and wrap gifts on baking days. My fondest memory is from 2017 when my husband finally joined in the effort after listening to my description of the process for 33 years."

"My mother’s mom, my Italian Noni from Milford, Massachusetts, taught us how to make them. They are a little like wandies, but the dough is not flaky or flavored. We only ever put warm drizzled honey and optional crushed walnuts. I have secretly tried sprinkled cinnamon, after my love of Greek pastry!

"I believe the custom came from my great grandmother of Southern Italy. Noni called them Nelles or Navelles (not sure of spelling), but we called them ribbons.

I grew up in Foxboro, but I went to Milford to learn my grandmother’s recipes that I recorded in a book I wrote for my grandparents’ 50th wedding anniversary.

"Our parents and grandparents are gone, but we continue the tradition." 

Lee Waterbury Chappell of Wakefield remembered her family's oyster stew on Christmas Eve.

"Ugh. My brother, Vic would visibly shudder as he'd allow them to slide down his throat. This was the price that we would have to pay to open one gift on Christmas Eve!

"Christmas week we would endure tourtière (Canadian meat pie), or Welsh Rarebit (another hoo-hummer), but Christmas Day was a lollapalooza: roast beef with Yorkshire Pudding or roasted duck with – be still my racing heart – Baked Alaska or white cake with seven-minute frosting for dessert! 

 "I'm so grateful that depression-era mothers did not indulge kids with food dislikes, but believed in cultivating palates and taste instead.

"Truth be told we three kids always hated the Christmas Eve Oyster Stew, until our parents died and then we never had another Christmas Eve without it.

Chappell called it "The power of food. And memory."

Joanne Giannini of Providence shared memories from special Christmas Days. She said being from an Italian-American family, food was always the main event in the Christmas season.

"Christmas Eve was always the night of the Seven Fishes (or should I say 11 fishes) at my Aunt Jean’s house which included fried calamari, shrimp cocktail, snail salad, clams casino, baccala salad, fried baccala, baked scrod, grilled swordfish, baked stuffed shrimp, spaghetti with white or red clam sauce and grilled lobster tails. 

"All this was topped off with an antipasto complete with vinegar peppers, stuffed olives, Italian ham, anchovies and fresh baked Italian bread. 

"My Aunt would cook for days preparing this delightful array of delicious food.  It was a family tradition for us and we always had the whole family of at least 20 people and always invited others who would be alone.  As Auntie would say, 'There’s always enough for more people to enjoy.' ”

"When my Aunt Jean died, I took over the tradition at my house. I continued all the traditions my Aunt Jean and Mom had taught me,

"Christmas Day was a food feast as well. One Christmas, my late sister Jean was cooking for our family.  Jean was a gourmet cook and thoroughly enjoyed it.  But she had to make so many things at once, you didn’t know what to eat first.

"This Christmas Day, Jean had just baked a huge baked ham with glazed pineapples and a huge lasagna when the oven just stopped baking.

"The filet mignons still had to be cooked. Jean improvised and put them in a roasting pan and cooked them on top of the gas stove. They were delicious. Our dinner was fabulous. 

"All of these memories bring tears to my eyes, missing our loved ones  and remembering the sparkle in their eyes as they served their favorite recipes.

 Nancy Fahey, of North Kingstown, wrote about her best memory of the holidays, her first Thanksgiving dinner celebrated with her new husband.

"We were a young couple, newly married in the fall, when my husband Jack's job located him in Los Angeles, California. Traveling from the East Coast to the West Coast with just our suitcases of clothing, we immediately began looking at furnished apartments.  The perfect apartment was found close to the Hollywood Hills. It had a user-friendly kitchen and even afforded us a stunning view of the Griffith Park Observatory. 

"Thanksgiving Day was quickly approaching.   All our friends and family were back home in the East. I decided to undertake making our first Thanksgiving dinner in our families' tradition; a roasted turkey, stuffing and all the sides.

"I would prepare the sides while our turkey was roasting.  It was Thanksgiving Day morning, when I discovered our furnished apartment didn't furnish a roasting pan. No problem! I had a genius idea. I would improvise a roasting pan of many layers from our roll of aluminum foil. That should work. And so it did!

"Our beautiful roasted turkey; sans the large platter needed, was placed with its foil bunting, onto the table. The big moment came when Jack stood proudly and confidentially over the main entrée of our Thanksgiving dinner and began to carve the big bird.   

"It was then it took on a life of its own and promptly slid through the greasy foil and onto the floor!

"A proper roasting pan arrived in time for Christmas."

Shirley Ferrucci of East Providence sent photos of mamoul and baklava and wrote, "My maternal grandmother was Lebanese. My paternal grandmother was Assyrian. They both made these treats on holidays so it’s no wonder that I follow in their footsteps.

"My late husband Michael always made them with me. The student ended up better than the teacher.

"I am blessed to have lived long enough to see my children, grandchildren and great grandchildren enjoy making them."