Where Are You, Christmas?

“Where are you Christmas?  Why can’t I find you?”  I’m sort of a fan of that Faith Hill song, although I really dislike the scary live-action Grinch movie it came from.  Welcome to the first week of December, and I can’t seem to get into the spirit of the season.  Cue the Alan Silvestri song: “It’s the spirit of the season/ you can feel it the air/ you can hear it if you listen/ everywhere so much care like a prayer.”

Hmmm.  I wouldn’t exactly call what I have been hearing since late October “so much care like a prayer.”  Yesterday, I saw a Wal-Mart commercial on TV.  It featured a catchy tune with children gaily threatening their parents to hurry up and get downstairs because Christmas morning is here at last.  The corresponding video shows the little cherubs forcing their sleeping parents’ eyes open.  Wait.  It gets better.  Did you happen to catch the “Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show” on television Tuesday night?  Too bad I missed it.  Maybe that was exactly what I needed to get me into the Christmas spirit: models wearing only underwear prancing up and down with wings strapped to their backs, all to the holiday musical stylings of Kanye West.

Perhaps if I started decorating the house I would find some Yuletide cheer.  As ever, mine is the only house in the cul-de-sac still sporting mums and pumpkins on December 2nd.  My neighbors have all plugged in the Christmas lights, and they seem to have opted for bigger and brighter this year.  Wreaths in every window, lights lining the eaves, perfect net lights adorning every shrub.  One wonders how they do it with only one freaking outdoor outlet.  Think of the money they must sink into extension cords.  I just can’t get beyond the 3-prong, 2-prong thing.  How is it that I always end up with incompatible lights and cords and outlets?

SuzyQ reminded me the other day that it’s time to start working on the annual family Christmas letter.  She’s right, but I’m wondering what’s the point.  Last year I think I received about a dozen Christmas cards.  I know I sent out a lot more than that.  I put a lot of effort into writing that letter, writing a personal note in each card, and addressing them all for the mail.  In return, most of the cards I get are those photo cards with pictures of people’s kids (Cute, but I’m not friends with them) and a signature.  I do have one old friend who hand-writes paragraphs about her family every year.  God Bless Her.  Maybe that’s why I bother.

So I see that on Monday night, “A Charlie Brown Christmas” is scheduled to air.  Perhaps that’s what I need.  First of all, Snoopy always makes me happy.  Secondly, it’s hard to “Bah Humbug” after hearing those famous lines by Linus:

For unto you is born this day in the City of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.’ And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.'” That’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.



Filed under holidays

2 responses to “Where Are You, Christmas?

  1. I no longer send Christmas cards. It’s not that I am lazy. Of course not. Or cheap. Not me. We’ll say it’s because it’s environmentally friendly. I send warm thoughts instead. But not so warm that they cause climate change.

  2. I wonder how much longer networks will broadcast the Peanuts Christmas video. It’s so politically incorrect. But dead on, of course.
    According to Fr. Barron (“Catholicism” DVD series) via St. Paul, happiness (ie. the spirit of Christmas) is principally found in performing small acts of love for other people. I like that he said ‘small’ because most days, that’s all most of us can manage.

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