Multiplicity

The Christmas season can be a pain in the neck or it can be the most wonderful, joyous time of the year. Yesterday a clerk at the grocery store gushed, "Oh, I LOVE Christmas; it's my favorite holiday!", and then added, "It means the semester is almost over!" In essence, this dichotomy reflects the multiple reactions we have to Christmas. It made me smile and it started me thinking.

Some folks mourn the loss of the true meaning of Christmas, which church-going people celebrate as the birthday of Jesus, the beginning of mankind's salvation. It's nice to see the stable scene set up outside churches and in peoples' yards; it makes me a bit sentimental, remembering the Christmas songs and midnight masses of my childhood.

Others mourn the loss of Christmas traditions, which revolved around the warmth and comfort of family and food and the simple joys gift-giving. Those traditions have gone through a metamorphosis to become a mad rush to buy more and better gifts, to hurry up and mail out those cards before Christmas day, to host a Rachel Ray or a Martha Stewart dinner or brunch or open house, to have better and more decorations inside and out than the neighbors, to suffer stress and worry over what was once such a simple day.

We've certainly lost something along the way, haven't we?

There will always be the special feeling we have when family is gathered around, and that's not lost. We find ourselves excited as we watch someone open our gift, hoping they like it, knowing they will. When cards come in the mail, we're grateful for the touch of far-away friends and family. That feels pretty special. We can't help but smile when we set out the Christmas decorations we've had for years and years, because sometimes memories are better than what we have today.

Whenever there are children in the house over the Christmas holiday, we can't help but share their sparkle and excitement. We're drawn into their sense of wonder, and realize that most of us have lost that special joy. Maybe we need to search our memories for what was most important to us about past Christmases. We might just find enough there to jog us back into the amazement and delight of our own childhoods, and of the days when our own children were small. Perhaps then we will experience again the calm and silence and peace that Christmas offers.