Christmas – The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly Sweaters
Christmas is a lot like Thanksgiving. Both include ugly sweaters, relatives you don’t see any other time of the year, and eating way too much food. The differences though are significant.
Christmas, above all else, is a celebration of our savior’s birth. We celebrate by attending church, midnight mass, being a disciple or angel in the Christmas pageant. We spread the message of Christ’s love through our many acts of charity.
Christmas through the eyes of a child are those of presents, snow, a break from school, and writing letters to or visiting a jolly fat man in a red suit to tell him their Christmas wishes. Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.
Some of us, even as adults, still experience child-like delight. We still squeal with joy, either silently inside, or for all to hear, when we receive that special gift, and still believe every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings. Christmas is a wonderful blend of celebrations unique to each of us and some shared traditions.
I played the part of an angel in a Christmas pageant at my church, an incredible opportunity for any kid, not only to make parents beam with pride, but also to serve as a reward for those interminable hours of Sunday services you attended when you’d rather be playing baseball or fishing, or just about anything else.
There was a time when every kid in America wanted a bike, a sled, a doll, a game, (Monopoly or Scrabble come to mind) or Red Ryder BB gun for Christmas. Now, iPads, the latest phones, and other electronic devices top the lists. Some things never change though. Kids everywhere still get socks, PJs, and underwear, they just know to expect it.
I got a bike one year, a 3-speed, all put together and ready to ride were it not for the 6 inches of snow on the ground. I thought, well I can at least sit on it. So, on I climbed, and the minute my behind hit the seat, the bike and I both fell over, onto the coffee table, shattering it. I thought I’m gonna be grounded from riding this thing before I ever get a chance to. I needed to head this off, and I went to confess, apologize, and offer to give up my allowance for the next 10 years. What I found was my dad standing right behind me bent over in a fit of laughter.
My sister and I also got a sled one year, along with new red plaid skirts and red leotards, leggings I think they’re called now. Of course, mom made us put them on the minute we opened them, and we thought, no chance we’ll be riding that sled today. Wrong. My dad was more anxious than we to break-in that sled and snuck us out while mom was in the kitchen. We just happened to have the biggest, most perfect hill right next to our house…how could anyone expect us to resist that?! I still remember so vividly how we laughed and squealed, and my dad’s big fat grin…until my mom found out I had torn my new red leotards to shreds.
As it does for most, my Christmas experiences changed as I got older. I remember for so many years a group of co-workers and I would go Christmas caroling, even on a hayride one year. Our first stop was always the nursing home because those folks went to bed early. We would find them lined up in the hall at their doorways waiting for us, some with broad smiles, others tears rolling down their faces, thankful we hadn’t forgotten them. Without telling anyone, we would always adopt a family and leave a box of Christmas goodies on their doorstep. Even with below freezing temperatures we were warmed by our giggling at our out of tune singing, the welcomes we received, and from a hidden spot, seeing the reaction to our anonymous gift. The night always ended with hot chocolate and cookies, and a wonderful memory. I was saddened to hear recently some folks have never experienced caroling. I say to them, it’s never too late, you’re never too old.
One year, I volunteered to serve meals at the local homeless shelter. I really wasn’t sure what to expect. What I got was an opportunity to look into the eyes of folks down on their luck and listen to their stories. I left there with a new perspective, and the stark reality that this could happen to any of one us.
Some of the best Christmases are a wonderful blend of both giggling and tears, hope, faith, love, unforgettable lessons of humility, and lifelong memories.
Whether from overwhelming commercialization of the season, or because of a sense of hopelessness, due to financial, job, economy issues, we had kind of lost sight of the blessings of Christmas. Many families who, despite working every single day, now meet the very definition of poor, and earn wages at or near the poverty level. But I sense a shift this year. Folks seem to be shedding their Scrooge grumpiness. I see it in smiles, hear it in greetings, from frustration and worry to perhaps renewed hope for change and promises kept. I think God sent President Trump to us in our most desperate hour of need, and despite the many oppositions, Trump is well on his way to earning his angel wings.
I wish you all a Christmas season of renewed hope and faith, and much love. As for me, this year I’m celebrating in a brand new way. You’ll find me somewhere outside target practicing, hoping not to shoot my eye out with my new Red Ryder BB gun.
Robin P. is a 63-year-old female Vietnam Era Army Veteran. She is a conservative and The Crux Of It All Radio show contributor.
Twitter: @oldschoolvet74
Gab: @oldschoolvet
Click here for Robin P’s page on NAKhub.
