On a Saturday morning in December, I wake up to the aroma of sweet bread baking and rise to the sound of feet moving around the kitchen. I jump to my feet as soon as possible, get dressed in no time, and run downstairs to join my family working in the kitchen. My mom does not even need to tell me what to do since I have done this for the past 18 years.

Without further ado, I begin kneading dough while my mother starts folding the already made dough into large crescent shaped bread. After about an hour, the first loaf of about eight loaves is finished, and everyone in the house comes to sample the sweet bread, which we call “great grandma cake.” This baking process has been happening every year in my family since before I was born. In fact, this has been happening in my family for over five generations.

My family, usually very Italian oriented in regards to the traditions we practice, always practices this tradition of baking a family recipe directly from our Czechoslovakian heritage. Around two special holidays, Christmas and Easter, my family would always make this sweet bread with various types of fillings ranging from cheese to poppy seed to cherry preserves to cinnamon sugar. Where anyone can make cinnamon bread or sweet bread any day in modern society, this bread is something of value to my family. Though I do not know much about the history behind the bread, I know it was very important to my ancestors; they had to save up most of their sugar and preserves throughout the year to craft this bread, making it a very special treat to eat.

Perhaps what is more special than the actual bread is the recipe. The recipe has been passed down from generation to generation not just in practice, but the actual paper on which the recipe was originally written on has been preserved and handed down as well. The recipe is written in my great-great grandmother’s Czechoslovakian handwriting and has been translated by my grandmother on the reverse side. This piece of paper is beyond sacred to our family; it contains the history of my family, and it tells a story of a family from a country that no longer exists. Currently, my mother has the recipe paper which was passed down from her mother. Since my brother and sister are not as adamant about crafting the bread, it seems that I will be the next in line to receive the recipe and continue the tradition.

The recipe from my great-great grandmother is not merely special to me in physical means. When I look at the recipe, I see a young girl in Czechoslovakia learning a bread recipe and grabbing the nearest pen and paper to write it down so she does not forget. I also see the same young woman taking her family to America in hopes of escaping a collapsing country on the brink of war. If only she knew how cherished her work was and still is, I am sure she would be very proud to know that twice a year, every year, we still continue the tradition. I am also sure she would also be proud to know that her sacrifice has created a very strong and loving American family that pays homage to our Czechoslovakian heritage.