I'm a big believer in creating family traditions. Every Tuesday

Hear the words of Ivanka Trump, who spoke not of business nor of politics, but of the sacred hearth: “I’m a big believer in creating family traditions. Every Tuesday morning, I make a proper eggs breakfast, and we all sit down and eat.” At first, these words may seem simple, the description of a household routine. Yet within them lies the ancient truth that the strength of any people, any nation, any soul, begins not in public halls, but at the shared table of the family.

The family tradition is more than habit—it is a thread that binds generations together. In the small rituals, repeated faithfully, there is a continuity stronger than blood itself. The Tuesday morning breakfast of which she speaks is not only food for the body but nourishment for the spirit. It is the reminder that in a world of haste and distraction, there remains a moment where hearts pause, gather, and remember that they belong to one another.

The ancients held this truth sacred. The Greeks honored Hestia, goddess of the hearth, for they knew that without the fire at home, the fire of the polis could not burn. The Romans carried the household gods, the Lares, even into battle, believing that the strength of empire rested upon the sanctity of shared meals and daily rites. Likewise, Trump’s humble eggs breakfast is but a modern echo of this eternal law: that the smallest rituals of the home are the foundations of civilization.

History too bears witness. Consider George Washington, who though burdened with the weight of command, kept moments of ritual with his household, bowing his head in prayer and sharing meals as a practice of gratitude. Or look to Mahatma Gandhi, who, even amid his struggle for freedom, maintained the simplicity of communal meals, where every person—leader or servant—shared the same food, binding them in equality. These traditions, like the Tuesday breakfast, seem small, but they carry power to strengthen bonds and steady hearts.

There is also wisdom in the choice of the morning. To gather at the dawn of the day is to set one’s course aright. Before the world scatters each soul into its separate duties, the family anchors itself in unity. The meal becomes a compass, a reminder of shared values and love. And though the day may bring labor, temptation, or trial, the memory of that table remains, a quiet strength carried within.

The lesson, O listener, is radiant: do not despise the small rituals of life. The world teaches us to seek greatness in vast deeds, yet greatness is first learned at the hearth. Make for yourself traditions that are steady, repeated, and filled with love. They may be as simple as a shared meal, a prayer at nightfall, or a walk together in the evening. What matters is not their grandeur, but their faithfulness. For in these small moments, the soul learns loyalty, gratitude, and belonging.

Therefore, guard your family traditions as sacred. Let them be anchors in a world of change. Create them not once but continually, until they become the rhythm of your home. For one day, your children, like Ivanka Trump remembering the sound of the morning table, will recall these rituals and find in them both comfort and strength.

So remember: civilization itself rests upon the simple act of gathering, of eating together, of honoring one another through tradition. Build these moments into your life, and though the world may roar with change, your hearth will burn steady, and your family will walk with strength through every season.