ramblings on Christmas

Shane (eight-year-old brother) asked me to spend the night Christmas Eve, which I shall do. The last few years, I’ve had a “sleepover” with my younger siblings – though they don’t do much sleeping, as they are too eager for Christmas morning to arrive. It’s a lot of fun, though. I camp out on my old bunk bed in the room I shared with my “twin” sister for thirteen years (we’re ten years apart but someone could have cloned us ;) and they bring their sleeping bags in and camp out on the floor. I had strung up white Christmas lights in my bedroom (year round) but they are especially awesome during the Christmas season and we’d lie in the dark, with the lights shining, talking and just enjoying each other.

Christmas morning inevitably finds us preparing a breakfast together, reading one of the Gospel’s accounts of the Christmas story, and then, opening presents and/or stockings (I still have mine since I was born – a red and white stripped stocking that has holes in it but which I love – twenty-five years old this year! ;). Then we spend the day hanging out, watching movies together, playing games, reading, etc.

In years past, when I was a child, we had more defined traditions when Dad was alive…we always enacted the Nativity – which included the appropriate bathrobes and towels wrapped around our head. Usually, we had a live baby to use for baby Jesus…whatever sibling happened to be the youngest got nominated for the role. I remember pushing one toddler sibling into a blue bucket (a makeshift “manger”) and holding his wiggly body into it during the story since he wasn’t young enough to just lie in my arms – it was quite the feat to try to keep him from climbing out (he wasn’t being a very cooperative baby Jesus!). I, of course, was Mary, but some years, Mom and Dad would make me give up that coveted role to one of my younger sisters and I’d be a wiseman or a shepherd. ;p We have a lot of photos from those bathrobe and towel days.

My maternal grandparents would either have spent the night or would drive over super early in the morning to spend the morning with us, and we’d sing Christmas Carols, reenact the Christmas story, sing “Happy Birthday” to Jesus, and then, then came the moment all of us children were secretly REALLY waiting for – the stocking and presents.

With all of us children, it’s amazing how disciplined we were. We waited while each sibling, one at a time, youngest to oldest, had their time to open their gifts. We’d open one gift at a time (and unpack one stocking at a time)…Dad would have started a fire in the fireplace, Mom would have put on the coffee, we kids would be bouncing around from parent to grandparent to sibling…

Dad always took the week off in between Christmas and New Year’s Day, and so we’d spend a delicious week together as a family, hibernating inside the warmth of our home, venturing out to play in the snow, then coming back in to get warmed by the fireplace. We’d read books (I was a huge bookworm), play games, watch videos (we usually were only allowed to watch movies a couple times a year, and so it was always a huge treat when we’d be able to)…and of course, half of our presents were “educational” – Mom and Dad were big on education. ;)

I absolutely loved Christmas – I was oblivious to the stress that the holidays created for Mom, nor how much work she put into making it a great Christmas for her family. As an adult, I am just in awe of what she did each year – her gifts were always so thoughtful, so specific to each kid. And they weren’t just gifts we necessarily wanted or desired – they were gifts to encourage our creativity and expand our minds – I received a weaving loom, basket-weaving kits, supplies for making jewelry, material for sewing and quilting, origami books and supplies, cookbooks, craft books, piano music, painting supplies, scrapbooking supplies, wood burning tools, and the list continues. Whatever I was given, I ran with.

I was very good at teaching myself, and my parents provided amazing opportunities for me. I had one of the greatest childhoods growing up, and am so appreciative of all that I was given and for all that I was provided.

But part of me, as an adult, really shies away from Christmas – not the reason for celebrating – but all the hoopla that goes with it. So many people stress themselves out around the holidays…and while most of my Christmas gifts were related to homeschooling and to education, I still was abundantly blessed with things…that I don’t know, that should I ever have children, that I want to provide the same, or to the same extent. I want to provide the same excitement, wonder, joy, and love that I experienced but void of all the gifts, all the running around, all the stress, etc. Is that possible? I happen to think so, but who knows; I don’t have children and haven’t walked down that road. But I really hate the materialism and commercialism of Christmas, and it just grows worse with each passing year…there’s a part of me that says we don’t have to buy into it.

The simplicity of relationships, of focusing on the reason we celebrate Christmas, the gift of God stepping into humanity and humbling himself to become a babe…that’s what I want to focus on.

And so, when I became an adult, I made a conscious decision to forgo all gift-giving. Occasionally I break rank, but rarely. It has simplified my life…partly because I have so many loved ones (that to possibly get gifts for all would be impossible or would require six months’ preparation), partly because I don’t have the finances to purchase gifts, partly because I don’t have the time to run around…but my Christmases are great because the things I care about – celebrating Jesus’ birth and being with family – don’t require a lot of stress, a lot of energy, a lot of money, or a lot of time.

Of course, when I have more time, I might jump back into gift-giving…because you can find amazing things at thrift shops, and when I have the time to search, I shall do so…but in this season of not having the means and not having time, I’m content with just “being” during this holiday season.

I do wonder, though, if I would feel differently if “gifts” were a part of my main love languages (referring to the five love languages, those languages being: quality time, physical, gifts, acts of service, words of affirmation)…since it’s not, perhaps that’s why I’m so readily able to forgo it? Hmm…