It’s been 25 years since I spent my first holidays in Philadelphia. From my first exposure to the Mummers in 1982 to watching the fireworks from a hidden spot along the waterfront in 2004, the two constants of the holidays in Philadelphia are that there is always something new to discover and always someone willing to make it happen.

There’s so much we take for granted in the City and so many people we have to thank for allowing us this luxury.

Just think what the holidays would be like without fireworks at Penn’s Landing. No light show in the Wanamaker’s building. No Thanksgiving Day Parade. No Mummers. No Nutcracker.

Each of these things was endangered at least once during my time in Philadelphia. This is an open letter of thanks to all the people who kept our holiday traditions alive.

For as long as I can remember, the holiday season has always meant a family excursion to the annual Army v. Navy game. Growing up the daughter of a Naval Academy graduate and the niece of a Navy Captain, I've been a mandatory Navy fan since birth.

I learned two things growing up in this patriotic household. First, the National Anthem has an extra line at the end -- “Beat Army.” Second, the true lyrics to "The Battle Hymn of the Republic” begin: “The goat is old and gnarly and he’s never been to school.”

Only once did this family trip venture anywhere but Philadelphia. In that game, Navy kicker Ryan Bucchianeri missed a field goal in the final seconds, costing Navy the victory. From that point forward, a missed kick has been “bucching it,” and my father won't dare attend an Army v. Navy game anywhere but Philadelphia.

When my twins were small, their first winters were spent in South Florida. They were too young to understand, but I always knew something was missing. After moving back to the area several years ago, I rediscovered it -- winter in Philadelphia.

The first time Matt and Cameron saw Rittenhouse Square decorated for the holidays, their eyes sparkled almost as brightly as the lights in the trees. They caught snowflakes on their tongues, and played with some of the dogs in the park.

We wandered a bit, came to a cart, and ordered soft pretzels. This impressed my son. “You can buy food everywhere here,” Matt said. They had discovered their own Winter Wonderland.

We still visit Florida occasionally. I always ask the kids if they ever want to move back there. Inevitably Cameron says, “And miss Christmas? No way.”

PNC Bank again released the real cost of the Twelve Days of Christmas in their annual survey. "Eight Maids a Milking" are still working for minimum wage ($5.15 an hour), making the eighth day of Christmas one of the least costly at just $41.20.

Our thanks to Jean Hager of PNC Bank for permission to quote the study.