LITTLE ROCK — Why does Christmas get such a bad rap in some quarters? What’s wrong with spreading a little good cheer at least one day out of the whole year?
Some folks, the ones who seem to want to hold the patent on how the Yuletide spirit is defined, would keep it all to themselves if they could and share not a whit of the peace on Earth and goodwill toward men we heard so much about as children. It’s the old “my way or the highway” approach, and all I can say is they’re welcome to it, because I don’t want to come within a mile of it at Christmas.
See? Just the thought of all those Scrooges running around brings out the Grinch in me.
For some reason-maybe the economy, maybe the fractious debate over health care reform or maybe just the weight of a troubled world-the Christmas spirit arrived late this year. Before I knew it, the last weekend before the big day was here and there was no putting it off any longer. Squaring my shoulders, I went out into the world to do some shopping. Then I sat down and started working on Christmas cards. Here’s hoping they arrive before New Year’s.
I don’t mind fighting the crowds when there’s nothing that needs to be bought, but the malls at Christmas can be rather daunting, so I braved a few box stores instead. Other than an unpleasant run-in with another shopper wielding a cart like a tank, my mad dash came off without a hitch.
A British writer, Katharine Whitehorn, has observed that, from a commercial point of view, if Christmas did not exist, it would be necessary to invent it. There are those who would argue that this is exactly what someone did. So what? I like my Decembers to have a few sparkling lights and colorful packages in them.
I once heard about a family who always put a small Nativity scene at the base of their Christmas tree. It had all of the requisite figures plus one-a miniature Santa Claus. Some people might be appalled at this, but I thought it quite charming. This tradition apparently started when a child in the family insisted that Santa wouldn’t have missed Baby Jesus’ first Christmas. As far as I know he hasn’t missed one yet.
Most presents are store-bought and may be deemed among the best because they’re something you really wanted and wouldn’t or couldn’t buy for yourself, but often the very best ones are homemade. Ask any adult who ever received hand prints in plaster or a Christmas scene painstakingly colored and signed in square letters by an adoring 5-year-old if you doubt it.
One of the biggest surprises I had when finally going through some of my late parents’ papers was coming across a construction-paper Christmas card I’d made for them in the third grade. As it happens, my mother and I went to the same school in the third grade and had the same teacher (almost 30 years apart, of course), something I’d forgotten until then. Boy, did that discovery take me back.
I still have the cigar box inlaid with felt and decorated with seashells that a beloved niece gave to my late mother for her keepsakes several decades ago. There was never anything inside it more dear to Mama, so someone else will have to discard it after I’m gone, because as long as I’m here, it stays.
My favorite presents are things people I love have made for me, too, among them items of clothing that no longer fit, finished off with Aunt Muriel’s personalized label; an intricate collage, its green patina now darkened with age, from a childhood friend; a wooden box in decoupage from another; and plaster Christmas figures cast and painted by Uncle Sonny.Every one of them took more time than money to produce, and if that’s not at least a part of what Christmas is all about, you’re welcome to tell somebody else, because I’m beyond convincing otherwise.
The late author, activist and humanitarian Helen Keller once said that the only blind person at Christmastime is the one who has not Christmas in his heart. And if you have it there, I might add, you cannot possibly keep it there all to yourself, because something that wonderful just has to be shared.
Associate Editor Meredith Oakley is editor of the Voices page. An earlier version of today’s column ran on Dec. 13, 2006.
Editorial, Pages 19 on 12/23/2009