I have long had an uneasy relationship to Christmas. I’m more of a Festivus kind of gal, minus the Feats of Strength demonstrations. I like the idea of just getting together with family, visiting with friends, sharing a meal. I find it immeasurably appealing not to have to shop for stuff that most of us don’t need, destroy more trees for wrapping paper, or use up resources by driving to stores. In my perfect version of the holidays there would be festive meals, concerts, visits, and the money spent on snow globes and animatronic yard displays would be donated to charity.
Yes, I know. My plan would wreak havoc on the holiday economy that is dependent on sales and travel. Everyone in my life would think me a Scrooge. But I bet a lot of hardworking mothers and frazzled dads would appreciate a holiday minus the pressure.
That said, I find I am looking forward to Christmas more this year than other years. Perhaps it is because my daughter is older and now it is a little easier, though I will always miss the Santa years. Perhaps it is because we stopped giving gifts to the adults and now just concentrate on the kids, which is easier on many levels. Perhaps I am just more organized this year so it all feels less frantic. It does seem that the more we simplify, the more I am able to enjoy the holiday.
Of course, I loved Christmas as a child. I always thought the anticipation would kill me, but then the mounting excitement would reach a crescendo on Christmas Eve when my brother and I were allowed to open one present each. After the mania of Christmas morning my mother (clever lady) would dole out one present from our stockings each day of the 12 days of Christmas, or until school started again.
As I grew older I bought into the commercialism, purchasing too much, giving piles of presents, exhausting myself. After taking refuge as a Buddhist I really felt as if the holiday did not belong to me, but there was never a graceful way to bow out, so I cut back instead. Every advice column that tells you to do this is absolutely correct. Buy less, include premade foods that won’t eat up your time, and plan meals with friends at a nice restaurant instead of buying gifts. It all makes a difference.
The best Christmas I ever had was that first one with my daughter Kay in 2008, just a few months after I adopted her. Watching her walk down the stairs and stare at the presents was magical. She tentatively went to one and said, “For me?” Kay was so delighted and so grateful that I thought my heart would burst. Of course, six months later she asked me for a pony, which led her to learn the phrase, “Your mother is not a Rockefeller.”
I was careful not to overwhelm Kay that first year in America. She barely spoke the language and had no idea what Christmas meant, so I did not overdo the gifts under the tree. And as much as I enjoyed buying her gifts that first year, I also felt very torn about acquiring more stuff.
Three weeks after returning from Ethiopia I stood in the Crossgates Mall holding my daughter. The retail side of Christmas was in full throttle. As I stared at a kiosk filled with teddy bears trapped in pale, pink balloons, I desperately wanted to throw my head back and howl. The entire mall seemed to be filled with useless flotsam and jetsam and all I could think about was the skinny boy with huge eyes who begged me for the trash from my lunch as I stood looking at the Blue Nile Gorge.
It took a few years before I stopped feeling guilty over everything I bought, and now I look forward to filling Kay’s stocking with creative gifts, which she says is her favorite part of the holiday. We always attend the Christmas Concert at the Lee Congregational Church for both the friends and family participating in it and the glorious, small town cheerfulness it produces in us. This non-Christian is always amazed at the goodwill it arouses in her.
We spend Christmas Eve at my mother’s with other family and close friends. After the gifts are opened on Christmas Day we do what I like to call “Celebrating with the Jews” because it seemed to be the same activity chosen by all my Jewish friends when I lived in Boston — we eat Asian food and go to a movie. Over the years we have collected people who join us. It’s a little odd, but it works for us and is at least is more amiable than a stark Festivus Pole or the combative Festivus tradition of “The Airing of Grievances.”
