Christmas has always
meant a great deal to me. I grew up in an out-of-the-way small town
in Northwestern Ontario. And by small, I mean ~1400 people small.
Christmases were always cold, and snowy: idyllic if you will. An
eerie sense of quiet would envelop you if you happened to be outisde
during a heavy snowfall, the flakes accumulating, and burying
everything in a blanket of white. There was always something wintery
to do whether it was tobogganing, cross country skiing, or building
snow forts. It was the kind of place where in mid-December you would
walk into the woods surrounding the town, pick an evergreen tree, cut
it down, and that would be your Christmas tree. As the days to
Christmas counted down, the Christmas cards sent from afar piled up
and were on display around the house. There were Santa letters to
write, Christmas specials to watch, and lines to memorize for the
class Christmas play. The inky blackness of night yielded more
surprises; the many colours of the northern lights danced across the
cold, starry skies. Our excitement grew to a fever pitch in the days
leading up to the big day, undoubtedly further escalated when the
Christmas Eve newscasts would report that Canadian radar had detected
Santa’s sleigh taking off from the north pole.
Despite living far away
from most of our family, we were never truly alone for Christmas. We
had an uncle who lived a couple hours away who spent nearly every
Christmas with us. Also, we had brave grandparents, who, several
times, made the long journey to spend Christmas with us in the north.
While it may have been nice to have lived closer so that we could
more often see grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins, I don’t
think I’d ever trade my perfect small town Christmas memories.
During the last few
years, I've come to realize that it's more the pre-Christmas
preparations that I love about the Holiday Season. Don't get me
wrong, it’s wonderful to wake up on Christmas Morning and see what
Santa has left under your tree, but more of my favourite Christmas
memories are from before Christmas. I will forever remember putting
up lights with my dad, decorating the house & tree, watching
Christmas cartoons with my siblings, and baking cookies with my mom.
Pre-Christmas is open-ended potential. Christmas Day is static and
unbudging. The day is over so quickly, I feel it can never quite
reach the lofty expectations of more than a month's worth of buildup.
This Christmas Eve, I read an article from the BBC that just happened
to be about this sentiment. If you’re interested in checking it
out, here’s the link
http://www.bbc.com/news/stories-42426094
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