A Quote by Dia Mirza

I lost my biological father at nine, but up until then, we celebrated Christmas and Easter too. — © Dia Mirza
I lost my biological father at nine, but up until then, we celebrated Christmas and Easter too.
My father is from Copenhagen and he lived there until he was in his late 20s. We always grew up with a lot of Danish culture at home. My mother is Jewish but we always celebrated Christmas because we loved the traditions of Danish Christmas.
Christmas means a great deal to me. I was reared in a family that celebrated Christmas to some extent, but I married into a family that celebrated Christmas in a big way. And my wife always made a big thing of Christmas for the children. We have five children, and we had a terrific time at Christmas.
I was nine or 10 years old and my father was sacked on Christmas Day. He was a manager, the results had not been good, he lost a game on December 22 or 23. On Christmas Day, the telephone rang and he was sacked in the middle of our lunch.
Like Christmas, Easter has lost much of its religious meaning in popular culture. Ask your average kid what the holiday is about and they will tell you all about the Easter Bunny, eggs hunts and baskets full of candy.
You can never truly enjoy Christmas until you can look up into the Father's face and tell him you have received his Christmas gift.
New Rule: Someone must x-ray my stomach to see if the Peeps I ate on Easter are still in there, intact and completely undigested. And I'm not talking about this past Easter. I'm talking about the last time I celebrated Easter, in 1962.
Christmas can be celebrated in the school room with pine trees, tinsel and reindeers, but there must be no mention of the man whose birthday is being celebrated. One wonders how a teacher would answer if a student asked why it was called Christmas.
During the first 13 centuries after the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem, no one thought of setting up a creche to celebrate Christmas. The pre-eminent Christian holiday was Easter, not Christmas.
When my, British-Church of England mother married my, Canadian-Jewish Father, the deal was that she would embrace Judaism, but wouldn't give up her Christmas tree. So, I grew up with Christmas every year. I loved it then and I love it now.
I lost my biological father when I was 9, I lost my stepfather at 23. Both men had such a deep impact in my understanding of life.
My father always pretends to hate Christmas. But when we were children he was the first one waking us up, saying: 'Do you think Father Christmas has been yet?'
I didn't feel the need to rebel as a teenager. From age nine to 16, I went to school in Montreux in Switzerland, and it was heaven. I went to England for the Easter holidays, Cyprus for Christmas and summer holidays, and I was delighted to have that independence.
Don't get me wrong, growing up in Edinburgh, I was all too familiar with the Hibs and Hearts rivalry. My father grew up in Leith - Hibee territory - just off of Easter Road on Albert Street.
When I was a kid, I was told that I had a biological father, but that he didn't have much importance. I had an adoptive father who was present, who loved me, who was up to the task. And he was. So, I didn't question that story, until I was thirty-two, and suddenly realized that I was curious, that he did have something to do with me.
I have been told for most of my life that the white man on my birth certificate is not my biological father and that my actual biological father is a light-skinned black man.
We used to indulge hopelessly as a family at Christmas. When the children were little, I dressed up as Father Christmas. They knew it was a gag, but they loved it. I remember stealing into their bedrooms at 1 A.M. and filling the stockings up at the end of the bed.
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