Tom Bawcock's Eve

Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes
Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,
This bird of dawning singeth all night long;
And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad,
The nights are wholesome, then no planets strike,
No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,
So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.
- Shakespeare (Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 1)

Once upon a time, back in the dark ages of history, on this day, December 23rd, a small village by the name of Mousehole was on the brink of starvation. A great storm had been raging for many weeks and no fisherman could keep his boat afloat in the wild, tossing ocean. They could catch no fish, and each day the fear in their eyes grew, for the storm would not abate and their families starved. There was one man, a villager named Tom, who could not stand by and watch his family die. That day he took his boat out into that wild, tossing ocean and he set his nets.
In those days, the cock was the most noble of creatures. It was said that even the lion was afraid of the many-colored bird who read the stars and heralded the coming of the morn. Once beaten, a cock would never crow again, but while he remained victorious he announced the coming of the dawn, and his cry was revered and considered a blessing. (Gaius Plinius Secondus, Natural History)
The villagers watched for Tom late into the night, and feared that he would not return. But at dawn, his boat was sighted, and he came home with enough fish to sustain the village until the end of the storm. He was hailed as Tom Bawcock from that day forth, since he had shown a cock's strength and bravery and come back at dawn with a blessing for his village.
Every year since then, the village of Mousehole in Cornwall has celebrated Tom Bawcock's Eve on December 23rd. They bake a fish cake, called a Stargazy pie, in memory of the fish Tom caught, and toast his memory until dawn.