Pakkeleg: My favorite Danish holiday tradition
Christmas in Denmark was unlike anything I've experienced elsewhere. The Danes have numerous traditions that bring people together. Now that 2025 is underway, I wanted to reflect on my favorites and to share them.

I actually learned about Pakkeleg (“package game”), my now-favorite Danish Christmas tradition, during the American holiday of Thanksgiving. Fulbright Denmark’s staff held a Thanksgiving seminar and dinner in Copenhagen for the American Fulbright scholars and students, and introduced us to the game. Pakkeleg, pronounced similar to "packer-lie," involves each guest bringing 2 or 3 small, inexpensive wrapped gifts. This could be something bought, made, or even pre-owned. We were advised not to spend more than 20 DKK (about $2.80) on each gift.
Guests place these gifts in the middle of a table and then sit around this table. For the first round, players take turns rolling a die. If someone rolls a 6, they take one of the gifts from the middle of the table, then pass the die to the next person. If they roll anything other than a 6, they pass the die to the next person without taking anything. But if they did roll a 6 and took a gift, they do not open it yet. There is a lot more game to play.
Because we were such a large group in Copenhagen, we played with at least five dice – if not more – spread among the group. But at a Christmas party I attended in Aarhus, we were a much smaller group and only played with one die.
Once all of the gifts have been taken from the middle of the table, round 2 begins. Guests continue taking turns rolling the die. But since the gifts are no longer in the middle, whoever rolls a 6 will now take a gift from someone else.
This is where things really get exciting. People quickly run to the other end of the table to take a gift sitting in front of someone else, then hurry back to their spot so they don't miss their turn to roll again. It's fun to see an exquisitely wrapped gift reverse hands repeatedly – especially when you know the gift they're "fighting" over is actually a 20-year-old CD from a long-forgotten pop band, for example.
I have seen variations on round 2, where both a 6 and 2, or a 6 and 3, were green lights for snatching a gift. I noticed with a bigger group, having two numbers instead of just 6 seemed to make the game more delightfully chaotic. Also, someone usually sets a timer for this round, but this time seems to vary depending upon the group size. I'm guessing 3 minutes should suffice.
Once the timer sounds, the game is done. Everyone can open their presents. Hopefully, people who have a lot of gifts will share with someone who lost all of their gifts in the ferocious second round.
Another memorable tradition I learned about was kalenderlys, or calendar candles. On December 1, many Danes light their kalenderlys to begin counting down to Christmas Eve. These candles come in various shapes and sizes. Mine was like the one at far left in this picture I found on Etsy, though I bought it at Kvickly in Viby. What the candles have in common, though, is that they are marked with numbers 1 through 24, with 1 being closest to the top and 24, denoting Christmas Eve, near the bottom. Each night at dinner, we lit the candle until that day burned, but blew it out before the next day was reached. This was a fun way to enjoy anticipation.
We did not light an adventskran, or advent wreath, at home, but the church we attend in Aarhus did. Advent spans the four weeks leading up to Christmas and is the time many Christian communities anticipate and celebrate Christ’s birth. An advent wreath has four candles, each candle representing a Sunday in Advent. At the aforementioned church in Aarhus, these candles were white, but in the U.S., I’ve seen them blue or purple.
The Juleaften, or Christmas Eve, church service I attended was packed. I had never seen so many people in this church, though a baptism was a distant second. From what I’ve read and been told, this is typical in Denmark. Few people regularly attend church.
Generally speaking, Church of Denmark services are organized much like a Lutheran service in the U.S. But besides the language, there are notable differences. Since the church is state funded, there is no offertory, for example. And there are no communion ushers. When it’s time for communion, people just get up and go.
The first time I came to church, my Danish was mediocre at best. I didn’t understand much of what was happening, and had to intensely focus on a speaker to understand even a fraction of what they said. So, I didn’t understand why parishioners were suddenly jumping up and offering the pastor a chair and a glass of water: Despite staring right at her, I had missed her saying she wasn’t well and needed help.
The Juleaften service was less eventful. The part my family and I will most likely remember came just after the sermon. With the lights low and a decorative star suspended from the ceiling, the pianist and trumpet player started playing When You Wish Upon a Star, from Disney’s Pinocchio (1940). The trumpeter really got into it, and people were swaying to the beat. It had a nightclub feel unlike anything I've seen at an American church service.
A final Christmas tradition I enjoyed learning is walking around the Christmas tree, hand in hand and singing. I attended two celebrations where people of all ages did this, both singing the same version of Nu’ det jul igen, or “Now it’s Christmas again.” The words translate to “Now it’s Christmas again and now it’s Christmas again and Christmas lasts until Easter. No, that’s not true. No, that’s not true, because in between comes Lent.” This activity seems to bring people both literally and figuratively together, and I hope to incorporate it into my future holiday traditions, regardless of the country in which I may celebrate.