Wild-Eyed Innocence

I crawled into bed last night thinking about the wild-eyed innocence of youth, my youth in particular.  Christmas was a time of wonder and excitement.  The threat of being put on Santa's naughty list was something my brother and I avoided at all costs.  When the toy bible's arrived (via the JC Penney and Sears winter catalogs) we would carry them around and study them at length.  In those days, our family would drive out to the woods to pick out our own tree to cut down.  At school we would make ornaments to hang on it, make gifts for our parents, and have Christmas parties to celebrate the season.  (Yes, "Christmas" parties and each student brought a gift to exchange.)

The Christmas season was and is a magical time.  Through the years it's come to mean different things to me.  As a young child, it was about the excitement of Santa.  As an older child it was about the presents.  As a teenager, we went to Catholic Mass and I knew the story of Jesus' birth but it wasn't until that period of my life that I saw the history in action.  As a young adult with children, the wonder and excitement of Santa rolled back around.  My mother and I would take off one Friday at the beginning of each December to shop.  We would spend the entire day wondering through stores with our lists in hand.  We would fill her car with Santa's gifts that she would take home and leave in her closet until Christmas Eve.

We always spent Christmas Eve at my childhood home.  (I don't think Santa even knew where we lived!)  My mom and I would retreat to the bedroom in the afternoon and spend an hour or two wrapping all those gifts.  My dad would deliver chilled glasses of Peppermint Schnapps to sip on while we worked.  We would talk and laugh as we worked, and tell the little knockers on the other side of the door that we would be out soon.  And when we did come out of the room, we carried a few packages with us, including the one gift they were each allowed to open on Christmas Eve - a new set of pajamas.

Those were great traditions.  Ones that I see both of the boys carrying into their adult lives as husbands and parents of their own children.  I may not get to play the role of Santa any longer but being a grandparent does not come without merits.  In fact, mom and I are going shopping next week!  We may not fill up a closet full of toys anymore, but we still talk and laugh and have a great time together.  Isn't that what it's all about?  Togetherness.  Family.  Love.  Remembering the true reason for the season and being thankful for all that Jesus' birth entails.  These are the important things, not the commercialism.  We have to leave "Christ" in Christmas.