When I was young, every year at Christmas my Mom would stand over the stove for hours, relentlessly stirring a boiling hot, bubbling sugar confection in her silver Farberware pot.
The Christmas fudge.
Mom was an expert. I am sure that she made over 100 pans of fudge each Christmas, so as to accommodate the ever growing list of “Mrs. Moran’s Fudge” fans. The refrigerator in the basement almost always had pans stacked up waiting to be given out as a thank you – to teachers, neighbors, friends, family – or to anyone who happened to stop by during the holidays. Her fudge was practically famous. (At least in our small world!)
So as you can imagine, I waited in anticipation for fudge season to arrive, because then maybe I’d get a turn to lick the spoon or be on hand for the pan scrapings that Mom would put on a plate for us to eat. But most every drop of “real” fudge was poured, while still hot, into the disposable aluminum pans that lined the chopping block awaiting their steamy, chocolaty contents.
And they were all to be given away – much to my dismay.
I have carried on the fudge making and giving tradition with my own kids and they too can’t wait for fudge season. Last Sunday, I was making the season’s first batch, and they were standing around the stove waiting with bated breath for the pouring.
The aluminum pans were lined on the counter and all eyes and mouths were at the ready. I gave them quite a show, hastily and carefully pouring the hot, delicious fudge into 20 small aluminum pans. 
But guess what?
All the pans were going to be given away.
But still they couldn’t wait, because they live for the scrapings, just like I used to. And the remote chance that the leftovers will be substantial enough to fill a plate. But you have to be close by to reap the rewards, before someone else does…
That day, I filled a whole salad plate with warm, gooey fudge for their little mouths to devour. They were elated.
To me, in the basic sense, fudge means tradition, memories and Christmas.
But what fudge taught me, and continues to teach my kids, is that the best gifts are given. Not received.