Is Christmas Kosher?

The other morning, I sat down with my wife, Sara, to work on our seemingly endless to-do list, and I was struck by a subset of items tucked in with the usual chores. We need to pick a Hebrew name for Teddy, our newborn son, and ask friends and family to whip up pareve pastries for the reception after his naming ceremony. We have to find out what our 5-year-old, Hazel, wants for Hanukkah. Oh, and we have our Christmas shopping to do, too.

As the Sesame Street song goes: "One of these things is not like the others."

My wife and I are both Jewish, we're raising our kids in the Jewish faith, and yet somewhere in our marriage contract, a Santa Clause made it into the final draft. You see, Sara's father is not Jewish, and Sara's mother was raised by Jewish parents who just loved the yuletide spirit. As such, Sara grew up in home that was bagels and lox 364 days a year, and fruitcake the other one.

I knew none of this when Sara and I met in college, no less at Brandeis, where young Jewish men go to get bachelor's degrees and forfeit their bachelorhood - all by the age of 21. We'd been dating only a few weeks when winter break came. I went home to light the menorah with my family in Los Angeles and assumed Sara was doing the same with her family on the Cape. She was, but she was also decking the halls. It wasn't until the next winter, when I asked her to come home with me, that I learned how important Christmas was to her family. She wasn't available until the 26th. But by then, I had a good idea that Sara was the one, and I wasn't about to let something as ornamental as a little holiday cheer get in the way of true love.

Besides, Sara's family celebrates Christmas in a way that's inspired more by Hallmark than by the Holy See. It's a day full of presents and laughter and presents and food and presents. (Sara's mother is from the school of "More is more.") And, to be fair, the family also follows the classic Jewish tradition for Christmas as well, ordering Chinese food and going to the movies in the afternoon.

I joined these celebrations, starting the first year we were married, and will admit to having opened a few presents with my name on them under the tree. But when Hazel was born, it hit me that Sara would want to pass on her X-mas chromosome to our kids. Suddenly, I found myself in touch with my inner Tevye - the father in Fiddler on the Roof who's so concerned about tradition.

On the one hand, I was uncomfortable with the idea of diluting my children's religious identities, considering it was adherence to Judaism that meant my great-great-grandparents had to leave Lithuania to avoid persecution. If they were willing to abandon their homeland to preserve their faith, could I really justify being so indulgent with my kids?

On the other, was I really ready to sneak into Whoville and steal the roast beast in classic Grinch fashion? It would mean driving a wedge between myself and my in-laws, to say nothing about how Sara would react to my trying to trump her tradition. Besides, there are things I really like about Christmas. People are nicer to each other, some of the music is catchy, and, I'll admit it, I'm a sucker for It's a Wonderful Life.

So we came up with a plan. Christmas, we decided, is not just seasonal but regional as well. We won't celebrate the holiday at our home, but we will take our two children on a yearly pilgrimage over the Bourne Bridge, where Sara's family always has a tree to trim and stockings to hang. And when we come home, the kids will find menorahs, dreidels, and a lot of latkes to remind them of their heritage.

I'm not worried that this once-a-year rendezvous with Saint Nick is going to somehow invite the rest of the saints down the metaphorical chimney - even in a year like this when the first night of Hanukkah falls on Christmas. From Old Testament bedtime stories to Hebrew school when they're old enough, my kids, I'm confident, will know they're Jewish. And that confidence has allowed me to involve myself in the secular celebration, including an annual Christmas Eve prime rib dinner that I cook for both our extended families. But when it comes time to tell Hazel and Ted the truth about Santa - well, the good news is, that's not my department.

Shawn Peters is a TV writer and online sports columnist living in Holliston. E-mail comments to coupling@globe.com.