When I was in eighth grade, I realized that the magical quality of Christmas that had always easily filled my childhood was no longer accessible. Astonishingly, I made a choice, one which has stood me in very good stead ever since. I decided that I would let go of the old magic of Christmas and enjoy the season and the day for whatever it brought, that I would let each Christmas be its own event and not hold it hostage to the memories of a five year old.
Consequently, I have always looked forward to Christmas because each one has brought its own joys and pleasures. Not the inaccessible world of the child, but the shifting worlds of my various adulthoods. Some years it has been wonderful, some years bittersweet. But I have never felt the temptation to adopt the attitude I see in so many people, --and for some I suspect it is a pose-- of fearing or hating this richest of our culture's common celebrations. Even, as now, I feel its power fading along with that culture. (A feeling that I hope is wrong.)
So I hope that whoever lets themselves be open to this holy/holi-day finds some merriment, peace, pleasure or joy in it. Cause there's nothing like Christmas.
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