January 6th holds a special place in the hearts of Spaniards, and after experiencing this day firsthand, I can see why it’s one of the most magical times of the year. Known as Día de los Reyes Magos, or Three Kings’ Day, it’s a holiday steeped in tradition, joy, and community, a celebration that made me reflect on the ways it connects to my roots and the traditions back home.
When I first arrived in Spain, I quickly learned that while Christmas Day is celebrated, the real excitement revolves around January 6th. For many families, this is when the main gift-giving takes place, echoing the story of the Three Wise Men bringing gifts to baby Jesus. In towns and cities across the country, the festivities begin on the evening of January 5th with the Cabalgata de Reyes or the Three Kings’ Parade.
Picture this: streets lined with families, the air filled with anticipation, and the scent of churros wafting through the crowd. The Three Kings arrive in grand fashion, on floats, horseback, or even boats, throwing candies to the eager children below. It reminds me of Mardi Gras parades in New Orleans but with a more regal and enchanting flair.
The next morning, January 6th, the real magic happens. Children wake up to find that the Three Kings have left gifts for them overnight. Families gather to share Roscón de Reyes, a round, crown-shaped cake that’s as delicious as it is symbolic. The Roscón is often adorned with candied fruits to resemble jewels and hides a small figurine of a king and a dry fava bean. If you’re lucky enough to find the king, you’re crowned royalty for the day. Find the bean, and tradition says you’re stuck buying next year’s cake.
What struck me most about the Roscón is how it ties directly to the King Cake tradition in New Orleans. Having grown up celebrating Mardi Gras, I couldn’t help but smile at the similarities. It’s no coincidence either; the King Cake tradition in Louisiana traces its origins back to European celebrations of Epiphany, including Spain’s Roscón de Reyes. Over time, the tradition migrated across the Atlantic, evolving into the colorful, icing-laden King Cakes we know and love today.
It felt like a full-circle moment, standing in Spain, realizing how different pieces of my life were finally coming together in ways I hadn’t expected. Almost like a puzzle being assembled in real time, with each experience adding another piece to the bigger picture.
That being said, I won’t lie; I missed home during the holidays. Christmas, in particular, felt… off. There wasn’t the same buzz in the air, no over-the-top decorations on every corner, and certainly no strangers shouting “Feliz Navidad!” just for the joy of it. It was just another Wednesday, quiet, ordinary, and almost uneventful. Maybe that’s because all the excitement is reserved for the Three Kings Holiday, which I’m still learning about.
I’m not complaining or wishing things were different; I know this was part of the experience I signed up for. But I also have to give myself grace. This was my first year missing all the holidays with my family, and honestly, it stung a little. There were moments when I really felt the absence of my usual traditions, the laughter, the familiar chaos. But I’ve realized that just because things look different doesn’t mean they have to feel empty. Next year, I’ll be more intentional about bringing the holiday spirit with me, whether that means creating new traditions, surrounding myself with good company, or simply embracing the joy in the little moments. I know now that home isn’t just a place; it’s something you carry with you.
But that’s the trade-off, isn’t it? Moving to a new country means embracing new traditions, but it also means letting go of some of my own, at least in the way I’ve always known them. And while that can feel bittersweet, it’s also part of the adventure. A reminder that growth often comes from the moments that feel unfamiliar, even a little uncomfortable.
Love always,
American Girl Meets World
