ANOTHER MEANING OF CHRISTMAS, by Mollie Hunt, Cat Writer

Christmas:

A single word that hits everyone differently. It can bring joy or instill terror. It can evoke expectations or disappointment. It can make us feel loved or lonely. But no matter what, for many of us, the word Christmas does something.

When I was a kid, I loved Christmas. That was a long time ago, in the fifties. We didn’t get a lot of presents and they weren’t expensive like they are now. Until 1958, we didn’t have a television, so the evenings weren’t plagued with holiday-you-gotta-buy-this commercials, though I’m sure advertisers still found many creative ways to hawk their wares*.

I’m not saying Christmas was nobler then, but as a child, it was all about fun. I just didn't know any better. The adults took care of the shopping, planning, cooking, and entertaining while I greedily inhaled their endeavors like cinnamon-scented air.  Maybe I hung a few ornaments on the tree or set the table, but aside from that, it was all sparkles and Disney (old Disney, that is.)

My grandmother was alive when I was a kid; in fact, my family lived in her house, an ancestral Portland home built by her father at the turn of the previous century. It had a fireplace, but we never hung stockings. My grandmother thought stockings were in poor taste though I don't know why. We did have an ancient brass Scandinavian Christmas Angel Chime, the kind where the angels that looked oddly like cupids floated above candles, pure Christmas magic. The chime passed the grandmother test because it was old.

I wish I remembered more about those early Christmases, but I don’t. As I said, it was a long time ago. But I know nothing has come close to them since: not the White Christmas; not the Elizabethan Christmas; not Baby’s First Christmas; not Christmas in the Country; and certainly not the year I got drunk and missed Christmas altogether. The commercialism dampens my enthusiasm, but I try to balance it with what really matters.

Whether one is Christian or not, the sentiment is the same. Christmas is about caring, sharing, and giving. My grandmother, who could wrap a present without using tape because she had gone through two World Wars the Great Depression, put it in perspective when she told me that the greatest gift, the only one she asked for each year, was love.

For the meaning of the phrase Hawk Your Wares, check out my previous blogpost.

Check out more blogs by Mollie Hunt, Cat Writer at:

Mollie Hunt: Crazy Cat Lady Mysteries and more

Happy Holidays!

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