Christmas Musings

I wrote the following to a friend a few days before Christmas

It’s become increasingly difficult to maintain my belief in Christmas, and sometimes I wish I didn’t. It would certainly be much easier. I’m not talking about the religious aspect specifically, but about the ‘significance’. Hope born anew, or something like that. A time to remember that love is born in unexpected places. A time to reflect that joy is not entirely subject to external circumstances. And so on.

There’s also a ‘magic’ that existed for me as a child, which I’d like to resurrect. The last time I can actually remember that magic was when I’d been in the city shopping with my son Jeremy when he was about 5. I decided we’d stay on to see the city Christmas lights … which he hadn’t seen before. I can still remember the light in HIS eyes when he saw the big tree in the city square, and when we came across the stable in that same square, with real people, a real donkey and cow, and a real baby (no real angels though). We went inside the City Hall and found it full of Christmas trees which different organisations and families had decorated for charity (I think visitors could vote for their favourite and make a donation or something).

Somehow, it doesn’t matter if the Christmas story is ‘true’ or not. It’s worth preserving for the magic.

But it’s hard work. Amongst the rituals I have preserved is the ‘making of the cards’. Each year I vow I’ll do something simple, but it always turns out to be more complex than I anticipated. I could just buy cards like everyone else, but then it wouldn’t be worth doing any more … and people would be disappointed because they look forward to my cards. Not enough reason for stressing myself, of course. (In the end, I didn’t get all my cards sent on time, and resorted to email, using the version of the card you see below).

This morning we performed the ‘visiting the fruit & vegetable markets’ ritual, and came home with cases of luscious peaches, nectarines and pawpaws. Tomorrow I’ll perform my one yearly act of domesticity and poach the peaches in orange juice, ginger, brandy. lemon zest and lemon myrtle. There’ll be plenty to give away to precious friends.
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Unashamedly, I wish all readers joy and peace this Christmas time … and beyond.