Christmas Past

Christmastime always makes me nostalgic for those magical days in the eighties when Santa Claus was still real to me, he brought me a new Cabbage Patch Kid every year, my dad was still alive, and we spent every Christmas Eve at my Granny Scott’s house. I don’t know if it was just my dad’s death exactly three months before Christmas 1990 when I was ten, the fact that I was growing up, or the combination of both, but every Christmas since has seemed like an uphill battle to regain some of that lost magic. The term, “it just doesn’t feel like Christmas anymore,” really does apply to me; at least to some extent.

Thankfully, I had a childhood filled with many happy memories of love and togetherness with my family. I remember parents who probably loved Christmas as much or more than my sister and I did and lived to decorate the house, both inside and out, as well as the yard with yuletide splendor. I remember hours spent decorating the tree while listening to old Christmas records, watching every Christmas special from “A Very Brady Christmas” to “He-Man and She-Ra: A Christmas Special.” I remember Dad letting me play with Angel’s gifts before we wrapped them in order to “test” them, just as she played with mine. I remember always driving to Fort Smith to look at the lights at Fianna Hills then going Christmas shopping at Central Mall, then to McDonald’s for their special, holiday Peppermint Sundaes. I remember the Christmas plays at church, the living nativity, and caroling with the childrens’ choir. I remember the Christmas Parade, the second Saturday each December, and the lighting of the community Christmas tree either by the Depot or up on Runestone. I remember every house on our street covered with lights and the neighborhood party at the Hall’s house, next door. I remember wrestling with my cousin, Michael at Granny’s, using the bells of her tree as the bells for our ring. I remember opening one special gift each Christmas Eve night before bed, sharing a bed with Angel each Christmas Eve night, and waking long before dawn to see what Santa left on the stockings that were hung by the front door with care, since we were sans fireplace. I remember just siting, staring at the twinkling lights, breathing in the scent of wrapping paper and scotch tape mingled with that unmistakable aroma, of dusty tree and ornaments.

Each of these memories combined and more than I can ever fully recall are a sort of bittersweet block, reminding me of what a good holiday could be and what those today are lacking. I’m not saying that Christmases today are horrible, or that I’ve had nothing but bad ones for the past eighteen years. I can never be that wide-eyed innocent again. I only can hopefully recapture some of that childlike wonder through the eyes of my own children some day; much, I assume my parents did with my sister and me. If I can give my children ten perfect Christmases before the realities of life start to hit them, then they’ll have things just a little better than I had them. Isn’t that what all parents strive for; to give their children a life that is just a little better than what they had?

My Inner Scrooge

“I love mankind, it’s people I can’t stand.”
- Peanuts, Linus Van Pelt

OK, so I’m going to let my inner Ebeneezer Scrooge out today, and I’m going to talk about some things that are far from politically correct. I don’t like to think that I’m a hard, stingy person, but sometimes I think that’s exactly what I am. As we all know, I work at a television station. Well, apparently television stations are supposed to be the suppliers of holiday dinners, coat drives, toy drives, and general cash handouts to the indigent during the holidays if not every other day of the year.

What’s so aggravating isn’t that these people are asking for help. ( I have no problem helping those in need. In fact, I have a very soft heart and Bart and I have a specific charity that we make most of our charitable contributions to.  If wishes were fruit, and I had a wish-tree orchard, I wouldn’t work at a job but spend a great deal of my time volunteering there.  That said, we don’t give to a great many charities, despite their nobel claims because though some of the money given goes to needy people, a great deal of it goes to people’s pockets and is used in ways we think are quite wasteful.) The aggravating thing is that these people not only demand some sort of assistance, but think that it is owed to them.  If I was in a predicament where I had to bed for Christmas dinner and / or presents for my kids, I would be nothing less than gracious and thankful.  Now, I’m not saying I want to see some sort of syncophathic, boot-licking behavior.  I just don’t want to be yelled at because my place of business isn’t personally giving out seven-course meals and Playstation 3’s to the “needy.”

Case in point, a few weeks ago I had a phone call from a lady in the River Valley and this is what she said, “I just moved here seven months ago and haven’t had time to sign my kids up for Christmas.  What can you do for me?“

There were several things wrong with that.  A.) Seven months is plenty of time to sign a kid up for Toys for Tots or something, I’m sure, B.) Seven months should be enough time to try and find some sort of work, and C.) I/We can’t just give random people Christmas gifts because they ask for them.

Here’s another shining example of why I’m feeling a bit Scrooge-ish lately.  Just before Thanksgiving I recieved a phone call from a lady in Prairie Grove who is apparently on disability and she wanted to know who could give her a Thanksgiving meal.  I told her the usual answer of try the Salvation Army, Red Cross, Meals on Wheels, churches, and etc.  She said that she apparently had tried all of the above and for some reason or another they couldn’t help her.  What really bothers me is that she said one of the church would give her some food, but not the necessary turkey and Thanksgiving fixings.  Now, I don’t want to be horrible again, but if I was supposedly starving to death and having to beg for my next meal, I don’t think I would be looking the gift-horse in the mouth by rejecting any food donated to me, turkey or not.  I had to tell her I didn’t know who could help her if she was looking for specifics.  This lady wasn’t the first to tell me that she’s exhausted every outlet and had to call us for help, and I’m pretty sure she won’t be the last.  As with all of these people, I have a very hard time believing that churches and charity organizations would just turn her away, and that the only people who can help her would be those of us at the TV station.  That’s something that sets my cynical alarms ringing.

My next complaint about these charities is the parents who sign their kids up for Angel Trees these days.  My mother would come home from working at Wal-Mart and tell me all about how so often once the kids would receive their Angel Tree presents, their parents would return the gifts for beer, cigarettes, and other selfish things.  Knowing that only makes me angry when I look at Angel Tree Angels with the thought of giving, only to find the kids asking for super expensive video game systems, computers, and things I know will make money when returned to the store, not to mention will put a deep hole in someone’s pocket book.  Again, I couldn’t imagine asking for something so expensive from total strangers who are giving from the goodness of their hearts.

People shouldn’t expect charity.  They shouldn’t believe that it is their due to recieve charity.  Behavior like that is what drives hard-working indiviuals like Bart and myself from charities.  It is a gift, and again, I don’t want groveling worship or psychotic thanks when I give, but I do think those who recieve what is given (at least the parents of the totally innocent children who still often get the shaft) should be thankful and grateful for it.  My opinion is if you’re able to demand certain things be given to you in benevolance, then you’re probably not needy enough to really deserve it while there are truly needy people who would quietly appreciate anything.

As always, children get the short end of the stick here.  Their greedy parents make me apatheic to their needs.  I guess that’s why I like to give to the kids who don’t have any parents at all.  That, and as I rey for children of my own, my heart breaks for kids who don’t have a mom, a dad, a Lucy-dog, a house with a backyard and fireplace, or a Christmas tree with countless presents.  When I do have children, I want to teach them the importance of giving to kids who won’t have all my they’ll have.  I want to teach them that the ultimate Christmas gift is God’s Love, which he gave to us in the for us his only begotten son.  I want them to know that because He has given us so much, we’re able to do without some at Christmas so others may learn of His love through us.

I’m not really a Scrooge.  I think I’m just a pragamatist with a soft heart who becomes jaded by the harsh world around her, until she sees a child doing without.

Luke 2:1 – 20

1And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed.

2(And this taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.)

3And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city.

4And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:)

5To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child.

6And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered.

7And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.

8And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.

9And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.

10And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.

11For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.

12And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.

13And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,

14Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

15And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us.

16And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.

17And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child.

18And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds.

19But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.

20And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them.

My Christmas Blahs

I’m having a difficult time getting into the holiday spirit so far. Actually, I’m having a difficult time getting excited for much of anything these days. That ever present lack of time to enjoy anything burrows at my soul so much that I don’t really enjoy much in that grand sense anymore. Oh, I enjoy things some, but there’s always that nagging sense of what I need to do, what I have to do, and sadly what I can’t seem to find time to do. Those things seem to just niggle at me to the point where they steal my joy.

I had a good, long weekend for Thanksgiving, but stayed so busy that there were of course things that I didn’t do this weekend that needed to be done. We’re going to go to Greenwood Saturday so Bart can pick up his new gun, but I’m still sort of toying with the idea of letting Bart go alone. I need to be at home to do housework and not feel rushed like I will if we save most of it for Sunday. Well, we may do the hardest part of the housework Friday night and get groceries Sunday, but I don’t know…

Anyway, in three short weeks, I’ll have another week off for Christmas, but already I can’t help but dwell on how little we’ll be at home that week. We have a graduation / commissioning to attend the 20′th, which is also my fifth wedding anniversary, not that it will matter. We’ll get to be home Sunday – Tuesday before going to my Mom’s for Christmas Eve, spending the night, going to Bart’s parents’ Christmas, spending the night, and then at some point going to Bart’s Mema’s get-together.

I’m getting to the point where I’m pretty sure that this will be the LAST Christmas we spend the night anywhere, because it won’t be fair to stay at one parent’s house over the other, and I would rather just stay home anyway. We never spent the night at any of my grandparents’ houses and had wonderful Christmases. We would visit for a few hours and go to our own home. Besides, when / if we ever have kids, I want them to have Christmas morning at our home.

I think that’s a great part of my problem. We haven’t had a normal Christmas morning of opening all of our gifts when we awoke since we’ve been married. The closest we ever got to it was a couple of years ago, and Bart always makes us save some gifts to open at his parents’ house. They don’t wait on us, so I told him that this year we’ll open all of our gifts to each other Christmas morning. We’ll have gifts from his parents and to give his parents when we get to Greenwood, but we’ll not split our gifts to each other out of some weird sense of obligation.

(Sigh) So, there’s my big Christmas rant. I guess more or less I just need to give all those things that clutter my mind to God so that they won’t steal my joy. Then it won’t matter where we are, or whom we’re with.