"Anya!" my mother called, "It's almost time to go to church. Are you ready?"

"Yes! I am!" I yelled back, looking down at my purple dress. My friend, Daisy, sighed.

"I wish you didn't have to go," she said, "I've been having so much fun playing with you."

"Well, you have to go home and get ready, too, don't you?" I asked. Daisy was wearing jeans and sneakers, not appropriate clothing for church.

"Actually," she said, blushing a little, "I'm not going."

"What?! But it's the Christmas Eve service!" I cried.

Just then, my mother walked in the room wearing her church clothes. "Anya, honey, not everyone celebrates the holidays the same way." I frowned. We lived in a small town. Just about everyone went to the same church, celebrated Christmas the same way.

"Oh, so do you celebrate Hanukkah?" I asked, "Or Kwanzaa?" I asked. A few kids in my first grade class celebrated Hanukkah, and my cousins celebrated Kwanzaa. Daisy shook her head.

"I celebrate Christmas, I just don't go to church. My family doesn't have a religion!

Is that so hard to believe?!" Daisy looked angry. My mother gave me "the look" and put an arm around my friend's shoulder. I was so confused. I felt as if I was falling into a vast, swirling whirlwind that would sweep me up and away.

"But if you don't have a specific religion, how do you know how to live your life?"

My mother smiled at Daisy. "I'm sure their family has their own values and beliefs, just like every other human beings." Daisy nodded gratefully.

"I'm sorry," I said, "I didn't mean to insult you. I'm just a little confused. Does Santa still come to your house?"

Daisy's face softened. "Of course he does." Mom cleared her throat.

"As good of a cultural learning experience this is, I need to get Daisy home so we can head to the service." We walked Daisy down the block to her home, then my mother, father, and I headed to the Christmas Eve Service.

***