Dec 25, 2011 |
Will Power was excited. It was the time of year when the world was abuzz about winter, Christmas, and Santa Claus. Will Power had heard about Santa Claus and looked forward to meeting him.
He sat down to write out his wish list.
But he soon found himself overwhelmed.
In this season of good cheer and gift giving, it didn’t feel right to ask for so much for himself. But the world said it was okay.
He was at a loss.
Everywhere he turned, there was always something more to want. The world kept telling him so. He needed this and needed that. He must want everything, and if he didn’t want or need it, he certainly should know someone who did.
There was so much glitter, so much shine, so much of so much… he felt like this Christmas was just a Carousel going ’round and ’round and he wasn’t sure how to make it stop.
He just knew there had to be more to Christmas than getting gifts, and went in search of it.
He found a Christmas Tree. It was tall and beautifully decorated. It urged him to “believe”, but he still wasn’t sure what to believe in.
He needed help. He found himself wandering, wondering; and hoping for help.
Soon he came upon a gathering. It was a simple display. The kind that invited attention through its lack of fanfare. There was something very special. Very special, indeed.
He studied. There were no great light displays. No special sales or advertising or promises of ease and comfort. It was quiet. It was peaceful. And it was the most personal Gift he could ever need.
And in the peace, and quiet, and humility of a perfect baby being born in less than perfect conditions to a less than perfect world, Will Power understood.
It’s not about the gifts you get. It’s about the Gift that was given.
He raced home as fast as he could to finish His letter. But instead of asking Santa for anything, he had a much better idea in mind:
From our house to yours, a very Merry Christmas.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Dec 24, 2011 |
It’s not Christmas Eve yet. Not for me.
I’m writing this a day early because even if I have time to write on Christmas Eve, I don’t want to have to write on Christmas Eve. This is my gift to my family: to not behind my laptop during our time together today.
And what a time it will be!
My daughter is taking me to the local movie theatre this afternoon so that I can see one of my favorite movies on the big screen: Frank Capra’s “It’s a Wonderful Life”. This is a really big deal to me. This is not my daughter’s favorite Christmas movie, so I only watch it when she’s not around. Except this year, I haven’t had a lot of time to myself unless it’s sleeping. So, obviously, I’ve yet to watch the movie.
So when I saw the marquee poster for this, I squealed in girlish delight and embarrassed her by loudly announcing, “This is what I want for Christmas from you!” To which she agreed. Her presence in the theatre, for a movie that means so much to me, with no joking or comments. Just her, me, popcorn, jalapenos, and Jimmy Stewart. Joy to the World!
Now, the movie is a before-and-after marker. Because ever since we agreed to go, everything we talk about has been qualified with “Before we see the movie…” and “After the movie is over…” Things like, call her Uncles who won’t make it to town. Bake cookies. Go to church. Eat dinner at In-n-Out. Watch “Scrooge” (the musical with Albert Finney). Pack for Christmas Eve. Mix up a chocolate martini. And enjoy food. Lots of food. And whatever else we can fit into the Before-and-After categories.
That’s what my Christmas Eve Day will be; at some point or another. That doesn’t include visiting friends the day before, or arriving at my mom’s that evening.
Even though we only live a mile apart, we’re keeping up with the tradition of sleeping over at my mom’s house. There’s only been one year in my entire life that I haven’t spent Christmas Eve night at my mom’s house. It was about ten years ago, in our apartment when Dot and I thought we’d wait for Santa at our place. Considering once he stopped at our abode, he also left instructions to find more loot at Grandma’s, it definitely wasn’t a restful night.
Ever since, it’s been back to Grandma’s for some Family Togetherness. The kind that makes our family glad these events only happen once a year. But the kind we look forward to nonetheless.
Once Dot goes to bed, my mom and I will stay up and talk about the beauty of her tree. We’ll listen to music, or watch Christmas shows on the TV. We’ll talk about the weather back east and wish we had a White Christmas. When we’re sure Dot’s asleep, we’ll put out her stocking. Then I’ll go to bed.
Somewhere around 3 a.m., Dot and I will wake up and sneak into the living room. We’ll spy where our stockings from Mom are, and see what other small goodies she’s hidden around the room. We’ll try hard not to giggle loudly, we’ll avoid touching anything that makes noise. Then we’ll make our way back to our beds and try hard to fall back asleep.
Enter Christmas morning: we somehow manage to all wake up around the same time. Mom will have the coffee ready, and orange danishes will be baking. Once we grab our morning snack, we’ll meet again in the living room and open our stockings. I’m excited because this year I was able to put together a stocking of goodies for my mom as well as my daughter. I’d tell you what she’s getting, but she reads this so I can’t. Yet.
Then we’ll open a few presents. After a short time, we’ll break for another danish and refill on the coffee. Then we’ll open the One Gift: you know the one. The One that’s saved for last. The Big Hurrah. The One that is bound to render the receiver speechless. That One.
It will be over too soon. It always is. But we’ll sit back, sip the cider, and enjoy the day. Before and After will take on a new meaning as Christmas comes to a close. But we’ll always have the memories we make.
I think that’s the best gift of all.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote.
Dec 23, 2011 |
There’s been a resurgence this year in people saying “Merry Christmas” instead of “Happy Holidays”. I appreciate it. I really do.
I appreciate it, of course, because I celebrate Christmas. But also because others acknowledge that it’s okay to say “Merry Christmas”.
In recent years, “Merry Christmas” has been replaced with the generic “Happy Holidays”. And that’s a shame. I’m not opposed to saying “Happy Hanukkah!” or “Joyous Kwanzaa” to those I know celebrate those holidays.
This is the time of year when people believe more. In anything. In Santa Claus. In having a Wonderful Life. In Miracles. In waking up to find they haven’t missed it.
I’m not opposed to saying “Happy Holidays” but I prefer “Merry Christmas”. That doesn’t mean I’m trying to force my Christian beliefs on anyone. I’m not being politically incorrect or insensitive by my choice of words. I’m sharing my belief that there is Joy in the World. That the chill in the air should also warm our hearts. That God loves you. That it’s not about who gets what and how expensive the goodies are.
And that’s my hope for Christmas. Every time I say it, wish it, think it.
To me, “Merry Christmas” is not to be taken lightly. It’s announcing that I’m celebrating Faith. Faith that there are better things coming. Hope that you will be blessed beyond measure. And Love. Love for all mankind.
To be forced to be generic with my holiday wishes is to tell me that none of them matter. I’m okay with seeing a Menorah lit up, or the Star of David on someone’s window. I’m okay with the cultural celebration of Kwanzaa. And I’m okay with seeing a huge tree lit up in the City Hall Park.
And so it’s with best wishes for a New Year filled with Faith, Hope, and Love that I wish you all a very personal Merry Christmas.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Will Power was excited. It was the time of year when the world was abuzz about winter, Christmas, and Santa Claus. Will Power had heard about Santa Claus and looked forward to meeting him.
