Christmas

(updated January 18th, 2004)

Fair warning:  The first part of this treatise is on my memories of Christmas with a few thrown in by my sister.  The latter part is about what has happened to it and my suggestions on how to return it to the true spirit and meaning of Christmas.  There are some things in this latter part that may offend people because I am being blunt.  If you're the sensitive sort then don't bother reading this.  I apologize if I've stepped on any toes but I call it the way I see it and if you think you're mentioned in my essay it's doubtful anyone else knows it's you so relax.  Take it as constructive criticism.  I am NOT directing this diatribe at anyone in particular so please don't take it personally.

Christmas was a time of wonder at our house.  Months before Christmas our Mom would drag out catalogs for us to review.  We made lists of gifts we were interested in - extensive lists.  Time passed.  

Santa would make guest appearances at local malls and halls.  We'd queue in line for what seemed like an eternity waiting to sit on his red legs and tell him what we wanted.  More than once we were too terrified to go near him!  I guess the idea of a man with white hair dressed entirely in red with white trim and black boots is a scary thing for kids.

In the earlier years we'd go out and get a real evergreen.  I still remember the refreshing smell, the red and green metal pot, complete with thumbscrews to hold the trunk in place, the  hordes of needles that would fall off, over time, as the tree died and dried out.  After the tree died sometimes Dad would cut it up and use it for firewood.  In later years we had a plastic Christmas tree which we'd assemble and didn't require any water or cleaning up.  Much more sensible and environmentally friendly.  I remember threading popcorn and cranberries on string for hours on end to decorate the tree.  I remember the huge boxes of amazing and unique ornaments - of all descriptions - that we kept in the attic and used to decorate the trees with until we had a fire that destroyed almost all of them.  I remember tinsel, twinkling lights, and the special angel doll my Mom made to top the tree after the fire destroyed our star.  We still have that angel - I saw it in a photo from my sister's 2003 Christmas.  I remember decorating the tree with everything days before Christmas, a ceremony complete with Christmas music, smiles, excited anticipation and a special family night in front of the fireplace (we lived in Wisconsin, you see, and the winters could get mighty cold).

I remember our Mom spending hour after hour, day after day, baking cookies, cakes and breads to distribute to the neighbors.  All manner of delights were made in that kitchen of orange and yellow.  Sometimes we'd even get to help (until we grew bored) with frosting the gingerbread men and such.  Then, on the appointed day, our Dad would bundle us up and take us on a walk around the neighborhood, handing out these goodwill packages full of sugary delicacies.  Sometimes that day, sometimes a different one, Dad would occasionally take us with groups of people to go caroling.  I even remember one year when I snuck in counterpoint words, in my squeaky voice, on "Rudolph, the Red-nosed Reindeer".  You know - "Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer...REINDEER!"  Later, someone thanked me for my contribution.  I THINK they were being sincere! :)

I remember being told that Santa always knew what we were doing, that he kept a list of all the girls and boys, and it showed if they were good or bad.  We were told that bad children got lumps of coal in their stockings and since we had a fireplace we had stockings complete with our names.  That warning kept us in line for all of about 10 minutes at a time I believe.  We had short memories.  I still do. ;)

I remember sometimes picking out a gift or two for other people.  I remember the colorful wrapping paper and the elaborate bows.  I remember that my sister and I used to try to use so much tape that it would be impossible to open each others' gifts.

If there was no snow we'd sit and wish for snow and maybe sing "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas".  If there was snow we'd make snowmen, tunnel in the snow and make forts, throw snowballs and play for hours.  My father marveled at how, when I helped him shovel, I'd push through the snow with my little red shovel, clearing a path in record time.  I'm not really sure how helpful I was but I FELT helpful.  My sister and I would be bundled up in snowsuits - pants, coats, hats, scarves, boots and mittens.  I recall that, after a time, my coat would be wide open because I'd be playing so hard I'd be hot and sweaty.  When I wanted my parents attention I'd pound on the window of the sitting room.  I stopped doing that after I broke the window.  My father boxed in the radiators and put lids and grills on them so that we could put our wet winter clothes inside to dry off.  I still remember the great smell of those crispy warm clothes!

We had a collection of special Tuco and Springbok puzzles that we'd break out and assemble on the dining room table.  I remember the beautiful and funny puzzle of the 12 days of Christmas and another of a vertical town.  My wife and I now like to sit down to a good puzzle together but it's hard to find good quality puzzles here in Indonesia at an affordable price.

Christmas would be complete with elaborate dinners served in the dining room.  Every year was different but we could usually count on ham, roast beef or turkey as part of the main meal.  Extras included a great variety of things, but cranberry sauce, stuffing, gravy, pickles and olives, and special bread were common items.  There was a bewildering array of silverware and multiple glasses added to our youthful confusion.  We didn't care, though; we drank our soda, milk, sparkling grape juice, water, or whatever else they gave us and didn't worry about it.  We didn't eat in the dining room often so this made it special.  The end of the evening would be spent in front of a fire in our brick fireplace, watching the sparks fly, poking at the logs and adding more, talking, singing, listening to Christmas music, drinking eggnog and dozing off into dreamland.  Some years, for the holidays, either we'd drive down to Illinois or invite my Dad's brother and his family to join us for Christmas.  Those were special times.  That meant we'd get into all sorts of shenanigans with our cousins and have loads of fun.  It also meant, of course, that there'd be extra gifts!  Often, our Uncle's foster son and his family would join us, adding to the fun.  At my Uncle's house we'd play video games, watch TV and, of course, enjoy their fireplace.  It gets cold in Illinois, too!

We'd go to bed completely excited about Christmas Day.  We knew it would be great!  The next morning we'd wake up extra early and awaken our poor parents who were exhausted, having spent the better part of the night secretly wrapping all the presents they kept hidden from us for months on end.  Before being allowed to go downstairs our father would precede us, claiming he wanted to make sure Santa hadn't fallen asleep on the couch, when he was actually setting up the camera to record our faces when we saw everything.

Barely able to control our excitement, we'd walk down the stairs to the sitting room, the traditional place for the tree, and our eyes would grow as wide as saucers when we saw the vast array of presents awaiting us!  Presents under and around the tree and more filling the 4 stockings hanging from the mantle of the fireplace.  When we had a cat there was a 5th stocking for him which was, inevitably, full of tasty morsels that he was most appreciative of - although I doubt he'd ever heard of Santa!  Most years I could count on a can of black olives, which I love, and sometimes a little bottle of ginger beer.  There was always loads of candy.  After we finished with the stockings we'd have to stop and eat breakfast.  Then, Mom would bring out plates of cookies, fruits, and other goodies, along with the requisite glasses of milk.  We'd nibble on food while we took turns handing out the presents, making sure each of us got a turn.  Somehow, my sister and I always had more presents than our parents.  I guess Santa loves kids more than parents!  We couldn't wait to unwrap all the presents, going from one to the other as if they were unearthed treasures.  After the unwrapping we'd eat some more, play with our new toys, and the rest of the day would be spent having fun, with more special food and Christmas music throughout.

I think I was eight years old when I sat my parents down and, very seriously, told them I didn't believe in Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny.  I recall they were flabbergasted and tried to convince I was wrong but I stuck to my guns and eventually they admitted the truth.  I extracted a promise from them that I could help wrap the presents.  I never told my sister - I don't know when she figured it out.

The first Christmas after that I stayed up after my sister went to bed.  We started wrapping presents.  I quickly got bored and drifted to the sofa where I fell asleep.  The morning found me in my bed.

The next year I managed to stay up longer to help - although I can't vouch for how helpful I was.  Eventually my sister figured out the truth and the four of us wrapped presents as a family - although I'm sure my parents still did the majority of the work.  I'm also fairly certain that after they sent us to bed they wrapped even more presents that we didn't know about.  I guess they wanted to keep that element of surprise.

Another thing I could count on happening every Christmas was that I'd get physically ill.  I'd have cramps, I'd feel weak and sweaty, and I'd end up with diarrhea.  It wasn't until about 15 years later that I figured out that this was caused by the stress induced by my excitement about t he event.  A little late, I'd say.  Although, I seem to recall that after I figured out the truth about Santa Claus, I think my problems were greatly reduced.

I remember Christmas with a great deal of fondness.  I have a lot of happy memories of it full of love and joy.  My parents worked VERY hard to make it a special time for us and I am eternally thankful to them for that.

At a young age we stopped going to church.  I think we were Protestant.  I didn't have any idea what that meant.  I didn't miss it - I found almost all aspects of church to be excruciatingly, painfully boring.  It was a relief not to have to dress up in my Sunday best and endure interminably boring sermons that I didn't understand.  I do have vague memories of Sunday school and that I liked it.  Despite the fact that my grandfather was a minister, and my uncle a reverend, if you'd asked me what Christmas was about, I think I'd have been hard-pressed to answer you.  I think I did know it was Christ's birthday but how well I understood the full implications of the holiday I'm unsure of.

I have very warm, fond, fun and loving memories of Christmas and I thank my parents for making Christmas special.  Their efforts were incredible - even to the extent that they scrimped and saved to provide such an experience for my sister and me.

One of the most celebrated of all holidays in the Western world is Christmas.  The origin of Christmas comes from the birth of Christ but some pagan religions celebrated other things long before that.  Later, the Christian churches used Christmas as a tool of conversion by putting it on a date close to the pagan holiday of the Winter Solstice on December 21st so that these pagans could join in celebration with the Christians and, thus, be slowly converted.  Actually, many scholars agree that Christ was not even born on the 25th of December and that, in fact, he was born in a different month!  And yet, the date of Christmas hasn't been changed because it would be mighty inconvenient to do so now.  Regardless of which holiday precedes the other, or what the real date of Christ's birth is, I wish to actually talk about the celebration of Christmas and a related holiday, St. Nicholas' Day (Dec. 6th).

I don't know the reasons why he was made a saint but St. Nicholas, better known as Santa Claus, had a reputation as being a good man.  The stories say that each year he would go around with a large sack  of toys which he would give to the poor children where he lived.  A lovely story of kindness and altruism and I suspect that Christ, in his infinite wisdom, would've wholly approved of such generosity.

Somehow, over the years, Saint Nicholas (or Nicolas, Nicholaus, Nicklaus, Niclas, Nick, Niclaus, etc.) became Santa (which means Saint in certain languages) Claus (a truncated form of Nicholas) and, even though the day to celebrate his saintly deeds is on Dec. 6th (my birthday, coincidentally), he became associated with Christmas and, hence, the two very separate holidays became irrevocably intertwined.  Nowadays, in many households, Santa Claus is just as important as Jesus Christ, if not more so, and many children impatiently await Christmas day not so they can celebrate Christ's birth but because Santa will be bringing them many gifts.

Granted, not all households that celebrate Christmas are anything more than token Christians and plenty are from  other religions.  Also, many people celebrate Christmas with the idea of mimicking the spirit of old St. Nick (remember that name from certain Christmas songs?) and have no interest in the Christian aspect of Christmas.

If people want to celebrate Christmas in the spirit of St. Nick, Christ, or both, why don't they do it that way?  Why do so many people get so caught up in the commercial aspects of Christmas that they completely forget the real reasons for Christmas?

Perhaps you don't understand what I mean by the commercial  aspects of Christmas so I'll try to give you examples.

1. Months and months before Christmas, sometimes more than 6 months before, people start keeping their eyes open looking for Christmas presents.

2. Advertising (at least in the US) for Christmas can begin 3 months or more beforehand.

3. Huge plots of evergreens are grown with the express purpose of becoming Christmas trees.

4. As the Christmas holiday nears malls and stores have special sales (granted, some of these sales are not sales at all - the storekeepers have simply lowered the prices to more accurate levels) to encourage shoppers to buy, buy, buy.

5. The deluge of advertisements associated with Christmas, Santa, and the giving of gifts (although, miraculously, the giving of gifts to the poor as St. Nick did is rarely mentioned) reaches a peak sometime in November and doesn't let up 'til AFTER Christmas because of "after-Christmas" sales.

6. People are encouraged to buy, buy, buy in the spirit of Christmas and not forget anyone in the family.  In some families that requires 30-40 gifts!

7. People who never set foot in a church the rest of the year suddenly, and most temporarily, become religious and put on their "Sunday best" to attend.  I guess once is better than never at all.

8. The rallying cry of "It's the thought that counts!" becomes more important than the thoughtful selection of gifts.  People buy gifts not based on a list they compiled by asking the recipients what they want but by simply guessing or, worse yet, buying things they themselves like and figure "If I like it then so will (put your  name here)!"  More on this later.

9. Some people haven't got a lot of money and yet they still spend what they have in an effort to please the people in their family.  Combine 8 & 9 and you  have the recipe for lots of gifts that will be returned to the stores, given to someone else, hidden away only to be put on display when the giver visits or, even worse, thrown out.

10. To top it off some people will use credit cards or other types of loans, putting themselves in debt, just to fulfill their obligation to this twisted version of the Christmas spirit.  They then spend the next several months just paying off that debt before starting to save for the following Christmas's buying frenzy.  Some people spend all year paying off the debt, only to do it again next year.  Some never recover from the debt - they just continue on until they are buried under so much debt they can't see a way out.

Out of the symptoms of conspicuous consumerism that have infected, corrupted, twisted,  and otherwise distorted the true spirit of Christmas, be it Jesus Christ or Santa Claus (two men bound to be great friends even if St. Nick was born long after Christ died!) the one that gets to me most is number 8.

I find myself at odds because I know that it provided my family with something very special and, yet, I see what has become of this holiday and it makes me sad.  Even though I'm not a Christian.  It is difficult to sort through the mixed emotions.

People buy each other  gifts, never asking nor knowing what the recipient wants, and foist it off on their unsuspecting victims.   And, should they be made aware that they have made the wrong choice, they simply say "Well, it's the thought that counts!"  That, to me, is the most hypocritical statement one can make in one's defense in this situation.  Because, if you actually HAD given it any real thought you would've succeeded in using the most rarely used tool:  your brain.  Had that occurred you would've carefully considered what you know about this person and, AT THE VERY MINIMUM, tried to pick out something that had a good likelihood of being well-received because it was something that they had an interest in.  Even better, unless you know someone so well that you need never ask, you would've chosen the INTELLIGENT option and ASKED them what they wanted instead of forcing something on them that they don't want!  "It's the thought that counts."

Is it kindness to give something to someone that they don't want, something that they may even dislike or hate?  Some people have the gall to EXPECT that the person will keep the gift, no matter how dreadful, until the end of time.  I have a best friend who has, somehow, been marked as a big fan of Star Wars.  As a result, each year he gets numerous gifts from that series.  And, yet, when I asked him about this he confessed that he had only a normal interest in Star Wars and wasn't interested in having a large collection of items related to it.  So I asked him: "Why don't you get rid of the stuff?  There are lots of people that love that stuff!"  He said he couldn't because someone might be offended.  I then suggested "Tell people you don't want Star Wars stuff!"  but he again indicated he couldn't do that for fear of upsetting someone.  So, instead, his house, year by year, becomes more of a museum for Star Wars stuff that he doesn't want.  "It's the thought that counts."

One year I was planning to join my family for Christmas, despite the fact that I haven't been a Christian for several years.  For me Christmas is just a time when I can be with my family.  In preparation for that some of my family members had the good sense to ask me what I wanted.  I was shocked and delighted so I carefully explained that I wanted nothing for myself and that, if they insisted on providing me with a gift, the best gift they could give would be a donation to an environmental charity in my name.  I repeated that answer more than once.  And, happily, part of my family did just that.  Unfortunately, they also gave me gifts, most of which I didn't want.  Worse, the rest of my family that was there also gave me gifts, but not the one gift I'd asked for: the donation.   And, to top it off, I was given a gift I'd specifically mentioned in the past as something I did NOT want that, indeed, I despised.  Now, don't get me wrong, I love my family and I was appreciative of what they did.  But, although I didn't say it, I was very disappointed.  To be fair, I'm sure they all got those gifts for me with the best of intentions.  Perhaps they felt that I was being modest when I stated what I wanted.  "It's the thought that counts."

In all fairness, I myself have been guilty of this thoughtless gift-giving.  I have victimized friends and family with gifts they probably didn't want or need or like.  I apologize for my selfish gift-giving.  And I know other people have been given unwanted gifts because I've been told so.

I think we've all seen the movies where a relative gives the main characters an absolutely horrible gift.  The characters either keep it or get rid of it.  If they choose the former they bring it out for display every time their relative comes so that person isn't offended.  If they choose the latter they earn the scorn of this thoughtless and inconsiderate giver.  I remember one movie where the jerk giver was an aspiring artist and gave a large statue with definite sexual implications to it to the unsuspecting characters.  Wow, what a Christmas gift!  At first they kept it, afraid of repercussions, but eventually they got rid of it, much to the disgust of the giver who couldn't understand why they wanted to give up such a beautiful piece!  What kind of selfish, inconsiderate person gives a gift like that?  That Christmas I bought gifts for the children but I donated them all to the US Marines' "Toys For Tots" program which is a lot closer to the original story of St. Nick than most Christmas stories are!  And, happily, my nieces were pleased that I'd done that.  I was very happy with such a response and proud of them.  "It's the thought that counts."

My sister reported to me that when her  5-year-old daughter didn't get some gifts she'd really wanted she wasn't upset or ungrateful.  She actually said "Well, maybe next year!"  I think that's a very mature attitude for  one so young.  She's also able, in a child's way, to tell what Christmas is about.

Are we all so lazy that we are no longer capable of TRULY thoughtful gift-giving?  Is it so difficult to be considerate and TRY to buy something the recipient will like - not us?  Is it so hard to ask people for a list of things they want?  Maybe it'll reduce the chance of surprising the recipient but it'll give them a bigger surprise:  you were actually a thoughtful gift-picker!  "It's the thought that counts!"

"It's the thought that counts."  It seems that gift-givers use this as their anthem, their rallying point,  But, really, if people look at that statement and actually THINK about it they will realize that it exhorts you to THINK  about what you buy - to give gifts that are THOUGHTFUL and MEANINGFUL.  The very fact that it says "It's the THOUGHT that counts." tells you that thinking about the gift, applying your knowledge of the receiver, or asking them what they want, to make sure you give them a well-thought-out gift is the key - not blindly giving whatever gift strikes your fancy.  It truly IS the THOUGHT that counts.

I have an even better idea.  Why don't we forget about all this "buy, buy, buy" and "It's the thought that counts" crap and go back to the true spirit of Christmas?  For Christians that means celebrating the birth of Christ.  Sure, have a nice dinner together, or in the spirit of sharing invite people you love to join you.  Go to church (for the first time or the thousandth that year) and worship God.  Study the Bible and teach your children about the miracle of Christ.  And, whether  you're Christian or not, follow the tradition set by St. Nicholas:  give gifts to the poor.  There are lots of children out there who NEVER get presents, there are lots of families out there who don't have proper clothes to keep them warm, or food to fill their stomachs.  Do that which would make God, Christ, St. Nick and your parents proud: give to those who need it, not those who already have too much.  And, hey, if you can't see yourself spending as much money on complete strangers as you would on your family that's ok:   at least you did the RIGHT thing, even if it was with smaller denominations of money.

One person suggested the following to me (I've anonymized it at this person's request):

Shop at a resale shop nearby whose proceeds benefit a charity you approve of.  Enclose a card with the gift describing where the gift from and that it contributes to that charity.  Make a donation in the name of one of your recipients to a charity they would approve of.

Pass this tradition on to your kids.  I know families who do this and the children have really warmed up to the idea.  They really get into the spirit and even start to anticipate the chance to donate something to those less fortunate.

I have one final suggestion about Christmas:  There are some people for whom it is a miserable time of year.  Try to find someone like that and see what you can do to make it as special for that person as it is for you and yours.

Let's turn Christmas into something that will make God proud of us.