Most of us dream of a Rockwell-type Christmas setting, with snow filling the corners of the windows and the glow of the tree welcoming everyone into a dim living room. We reminisce for good reason. In the annals of our minds, we freeze frame those perfect childhood Christmas mornings, and again, for good reason. Things seemed much simpler then, without the burdens of adult life weighing on us. January’s bills weren’t lurking around the corner with December’s spending still hanging in the rearview mirror. Most of our loved ones were still alive, and life had more structure. Often our daily itinerary consisted of nothing more than snow cream and seeking out the biggest hill feasible to sled down.
With age and arthritic minds, it becomes easier to lose our grip on the joy of Christmas. We all have a variety of reasons to make each Christmas feel a little less than the last. I would challenge each of you to make it a point not to allow life to snatch the joy of the season. There is reason to be merry, always. Whether it be your own kids, neighbors, or even strangers who pull you back into that childhood wonder, the joy of Christmas is still floating around. It might be a Christmas play at your church or helping those who struggle during the holidays. Drive around and find some Christmas lights. Drink some hot chocolate and fill the bird feeders. Arrange that family rabbit hunt or rent a cabin in the snow-covered mountains. Christmas hasn’t changed; we have. The 25th still falls on the same calendar day each year. Christ is still the core of the season. Family still exists. We’ve simply allowed a hectic, fast-paced, material-driven world to steal much of our joy.
I still enjoy pulling into my driveway and seeing the colored lights twinkling at me through the pane. I still pray for a healthy snowfall on Christmas and for the sight of kids bundled in mismatched layers, headed up the hill dragging a sled. I love family gathered together and vicious games of UNO. I like thoughtful gifts. A good, sad country Christmas song brings back the smells and sensations of my grandmother’s house. Kids singing off-key in their well practiced choir still puts a grin on my face. I’ve found that the simpler I keep it, the greater the satisfaction. Adulthood is a thief that thrives on robbing childish joy. If there is ever a season to preserve childish things, it’s Christmas. Cherish it. Keep it sacred. And above all, keep it going.
Merry Christmas to all.
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