I don’t celebrate Xmas at all. I have zero decorations at my house, I don’t do cards, and I don’t do gift exchanges (except that I sometimes send end-of-year chocolates or such stuff to my clients).
But though I don’t “celebrate” it, I love the holiday season as an interested bystander.
I love how everyone is in a good mood and little kids are beside themselves with excitement. I enjoy how all the world is playing old familiar music (especially nice instrumental versions, and blues/jazz/funky variants). I love how work slows down and everyone is forgiving about co-workers and colleagues taking tons of time off. I love all the lights (although not so much the santas and snowmen and especially not the silly manger scenes. Well, one of my neighbors had a Darth Vader nativity scene in his yard this year. That was funny.
I really, really love this time of year, and I wish this wonderful season started in September and lasted through February! I want to Happy-Holiday everyone I see. (And I’ll be the first to scowl at anyone who frowns and tells me it has to be Christmas or nothing, but that’s a whole ‘nother diatribe.)
I love Christmas season, but back in 2002, my family invented a new winter holiday tradition. At the time we were just having fun by doing something outside the norm, but after fifteen years it has become a major family tradition and our uber-holiday of the year. Here’s the story.
My brother and I were raised in a Southern Baptist household but left the church as teens. Christmas was still a wonderful time of year, but we felt pretty vehemently that Jesus was not the “reason for the season.” People used to be sufficiently wrapped up in holiday cheer that they wouldn’t go hyper if you said Happy Holidays instead of Merry Christmas, but that changed.
December 16 to 25 is