I’m not sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way, Christmas lost of some of the magic and became just a day that required endless hours trudging through the mall, fighting traffic and angry shoppers, to hunt for the perfect gift that would undoubtedly end up in someone’s yard sale pile a few years later.
Even this year, with a little baby in our home, I had a hard time getting in the “Christmas spirit” at first. Everything just seemed like such a hassle. Do we really need to go all the way across town and pick out a real tree? It will be such a mess of needles and spilled water.
But we did it. We got the tree and started putting on the lights. And wouldn’t you know it? Something “magical” did happen. Our little baby caught sight of the twinkling lights and a look of awe and amazement that I hadn’t seen before swept across his face.
This was all new to him, and it brought back wonderful childhood memories of my own Christmases past. I remembered how excited I was on Christmas Eve. How my brother and I would try so hard to stay up all night, but would end up passed out anyway (sometimes on the floor by the door, hoping we’d wake up if the slightest noise was made). Then we’d wake up stunned to see all the presents under the tree and stockings stuffed with toys and treats. We had stayed up so late! How could anyone have made this happen between then and now? It must be magic!
This year, I’m seeing the magic of Christmas all over again through my baby’s eyes. This is all new to him, and I want to make every moment as special as it was for me as a child. Thirty years from now, I want him to look back and remember how his parents made the holidays special. How the hustle and bustle never got the better of them or defeated the spirit of the season. How the twinkle of lights meant something special and how, if only for a short time, he was quite certain there was magic in Christmastime.