I’m haunted by the ghosts of Christmas. It’s an experience that’s delightful, not frightful. One of fond memories, grateful appreciation and optimistic expectation.
At the risk of plagiarizing even more, I imagine I’m like Ebenezer Scrooge, the protagonist of the famous Charles Dickens novella. Not the miserly recluse, mind you, but the benevolent extrovert made so by the spirits of the season.
Maybe I’m either hopelessly naive or naively hopeful, but I believe Christmas affects most people that way. They’re more giving, more sociable and more cheerful. We all could all use more of that, couldn’t we? Especially as an antidote to a ravaging pandemic and rancorous politics.
Even a brief stroll down memory lane evokes vivid recollections of Christmases past.
I was 5, snuggled into bed on Christmas Eve and too excited to sleep. Suddenly, there was loud thump on the roof above my bedroom as if a heavy object landed there. A sleigh perhaps? I squeezed shut eyes as big as saucers, fearful even a furtive glimpse of Santa outside my window would send him away before he completed his delivery. While I’ll concede the possibility it wasn’t Santa, I remain convinced otherwise.
Childhood Christmas mornings brought joyous discoveries. I was as amazed as I was thrilled. It was … magic.
As a parent, I discovered even more thrilling moments in watching my two sons tear into gift-wrapped packages.
I was spoiled. My children were too. But it wasn’t so much the material things I received or my sons received that made the experiences indelible. I can’t remember now some of the things I believed back then I needed so badly. Rather, they were moments when dreams came true. You never forget those.
Christmases present bring still more gifts. Chief among them cherished relationships with family and friends and time spent together.
If there’s a silver lining to the cloud of a pandemic, it’s that my two sons and remarkable daughter-in-law work remotely and have done so from my home. The result: an unprecedented opportunity to spend time with them. We’ve hiked, played disc golf and savored wine. I couldn’t ask for a better gift than that.
Who knows what Christmases yet to come will bring. I’m optimistic, though, even happier holidays await.
Presented with the grim possibilities of his future, Scrooge changed his ways to embody the spirit of Christmas. It’s a cautionary tale. Never underestimate the influence of Christmas or, for that matter, the power of a do-over.
In the meantime, I’ll steal a few more words from Dickens.
God bless us, every one.