The spirit of Christmas
By Rawné M. Pierce Submitted to Corner Post
The spirit of Christmas pulses through the veins of my youngest son. A real tree, a ride through Krug Park, Christmas movies, hot cocoa in the snowman mugs, and spices that boil on the stove in our little farmhouse, all radiate love and relished memories.
As a preschooler, my son loved playing make believe with the sacrificial, dollar store Christmas village. Villains and superheroes battled in the tiny ceramic town. Many of the villagers glued back together year after year. He still sets it up every year though his imagination and playtime dwindles with age.
With the first cold snap, a sign on his door would read, “Do not enter. Elves at work.” He would toil and toil. Mostly, he made wood burned ornaments for parents, siblings, grandparents or anyone his heart pined for. Each one unique and special for the recipient.
By the first of November, his handmade presents would be neatly wrapped and placed under a 3-foot tree in his room. He spent the rest of the holiday season soaking up the togetherness that comes with the spirit of Christmas. Year after year, I yearned to be like my son, more prepared, less hurried, and resting in the season.
This year was different. As he nears thirteen, I commented on his lack of enthusiasm for Christmas. He replied, “I have hobbies now.” My heart ached as I realized the magic of his childhood slipping away. Once lost, it cannot be regained. A sadness seemed to linger in my heart that our family was entering a new season with teenagers and young adults. The innocence of my children slipping through my fingers like sand in an hourglass.
Nevertheless, I ordered the presents and put out some decorations except for the tree. The family still wanted a real tree. The days started ticking by. Pressure was building with the schedule packed and no time to get a tree.
On the way home from basketball practice, we passed the tree farm. Guilt and pressure ensued. My son looked over in the dark and said, “Want to watch a Christmas movie and put up the fake tree when we get home?” While I was certain his sisters would be disappointed with a fake tree, joy and hope filled my soul. Guilt and pressure started melting away.
We exchanged our real Christmas tree to savor the season. On the fourth of December, we watched a cheesy Christmas movie and set up the fake tree, his treasured dollar store village, the wooden manger, and snowman mugs. Afterwards, he went to his room and put up his tree.
A peace filled my heart when I saw the twinkling lights cast a soft glow across my sleeping, almost-teenage son, who wasn’t too big for Christmas after all. He is learning to balance new hobbies with his love of Christmas just like the rest of us. The spirit of Christmas will continue in our little farmhouse for at least one more year. And for that, I will count my blessings and rest in the season.
