Only three more days

It’s only a few more days until one of my favorite days of the year. Most of the preparations have been done. The packages have been mailed and once again I vow to send cash next year. I almost choked when the guy at the post office rang up a bill of over $82. Thank goodness it was a mistake. The real total was high enough.

The Christmas cards have all been sent and letters have all been written. The house is decorated for the season. There is a bald, armless Santa on the table, just waiting to be completed. In a day or two he will be joined by other hand-made things that are half finished. The last glass magazine had some easy patterns for stars that would look nice on the tree. It would be a great way to use up some of the scraps I have accumulated. There might be time to do up a few for this year.

I expect to finish up the shopping tomorrow. I have to buy two more presents because we just received an e-mail assuring us that our order will be shipped promptly on December 31. It’s either buy extra gifts or convince my brother and his wife that we are exchanging presents on Epiphany in early January instead of on Christmas day like we usually do. It’s a good thing I had already bought their son a toy in addition to the books we ordered.

I need to remember to water the tree tonight. I left a tunnel for the cat so she can sit under the pine like a regal present. That tunnel is a handy place for me to crawl under the branches with a jug of water. The tree doesn’t appreciate this and tries to poke me in the eye when it sees the water jug. Maybe that is its way of getting revenge for being murdered. It doesn’t appreciate the honor of being part of a celebration in which we celebrate the birth of an extraordinary baby.

I think I enjoy the shopping more than the receiving. I like looking for things that I think someone will like. Plus, it is a great excuse to wander through the store aisles pushing all the buttons on the toys. I doubt if I am the only woman who leaves singing and dancing playthings in her wake, much to the embarrassment of any male she is with. As a matter of fact, I know my daughter does the exact same thing. Thus, the tradition continues to the next generation.

Christmas is about tradition as much as anything else. We all have certain things that define Christmas. For some it is the annual play at church where half the children are too frightened to say their lines and the other half become natural hams adding things that were never in the original play.

Some of us actually like the hustle and bustle of the season and some of us hate it. When I hear carols on the car radio and in the stores it feels like Christmas to me. Other people have had enough carols after about five minutes on Christmas morning. People who love Christmas carols tend to marry ones who despise them. I suppose it balances out.

Perhaps the most important tradition involves the retelling of the Christmas story itself. It reconnects us with a different time when we tell about Mary and Joseph returning to Bethlehem to be taxed. Why not just mail it in and be done with it? And the thought of walking long distances or riding on a donkey in the late stages of pregnancy is just plain torture to anyone who has ever had a baby. It makes us glad to be living in the here and now.

Maybe the most important lesson to be learned from Christmas is that one person can make a difference in the world. That little baby whom we celebrate has spawned several religions and an entire industry devoted to honoring his birth.

What difference will each of us make in this world? Hopefully, none of us will create a new religion but I can guarantee you that we each make more of a difference than we will ever know.[[In-content Ad]]