Well, it’s that time of year again. Every year, between September and May, the Western world gets overrun by those little advertising gnomes who, in munchkinesque voices, demand that we celebrate the season at hand by commercially overspending…
;) I’m not really grumpy… But this is the truth! While I love holidays, and I love giving people gifts (in fact, I much prefer the giving to the receiving, most of the time!), I am adamantly opposed to the idea of spending money just to placate the great industrial machine. What happened to a little bit of tradition and actual CARE in gift-giving? Have we become so wrapped up in what we can buy and give with the minimum amount of personal investment that we’ve failed to capture the spirit of any holiday season, any more? My answer? YES!
We get a hand-made gift, which someone obviously put a great deal of time and thought into, and we just make the appropriate sounds, but we quickly cast it aside for the next commercially made piece of plastic molded crap that the stores thrust in our faces. What happened to hand-knitted sweaters and scarves, those ashtrays that children made out of clay hand impressions (whether we smoked or not), baskets of cakes and cookies fresh from Grandma’s oven, or the hand-painted (and who cared if some of the pain ran, anyway?) ornaments? What ever became of the magical moment when a child opened that painstakingly-wrapped box, and exclaimed in awe because mama had traded home-cooked meals with old Mr. Johnson for him to make that one-of-a-kind, hand-painted wooden doll? THAT was the true spirit of the season at work, the idea that what we give keeps on giving, not in material things, but in a sense of community and love.
Call me a romantic (hell, why else would I write Romance, right?), but even for as young as I am, I grew up in another world, it seems. As a child, I saw the spirit of the season around me all year round, because I saw magic in the world. I’ve done my best, as I’ve entered the world of adulthood, to cling to that magic with everything in me (though, sometimes, it’s very difficult to do). I remember what it felt like to build a fort in the backyard from fresh-fallen snow, climb trees just because they were there, and to rake all the leaves in the yard together, just to scatter them again by jumping in them.
I grew up ladled with adult responsibilities, but I tried with all my might to remember that, as adult as I was, it didn’t mean I couldn’t find some magic in everything around me. And I still, at Yuletide, pull out the box of crafting supplies, sit down, and create a little piece of that magic for everyone I love. Maybe, this year, you’ll join me. Maybe you won’t. But, in the spirit of the season, I wish you all happiness, innocence, and, above all, magic!
