With a Stake of Holly through our Hearts

IT'S OFFICIALLY HERE!!

As a child, this season was vibrant bulbs glowing against the velvet, navy sky, strewn skillfully about my dad's well-trimmed hedges, a warm burst of air as the door is opened to melt the crisp December outside.  Lights in every color, dancing gleefully about the tree, decked in memories, and reflecting with joy against the glass of the window behind it. Cookies of every hue and flavor for Santa, made lovingly by my mom, her talent still unmatched, stacked artfully by the fireplace. Presentation finished with the wondrous authenticity of childhood notes left beside a tall glass of milk.  We awoke to warm cinnamon curling slowly throughout the house, stockings, all but bursting with surprises, at the foot of our beds, the soft glow of the tree illuminating the staircase we waited atop to see the scene below straight from the Polar Express that Santa had left with such love for us downstairs.  Nibbled carrots and reindeer snacks on the front steps confirmed this visit.  The day belonged to us, no traveling, red and green pajamas, wrapping paper debris, and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and Charlie brown playing in the background. The whole season was ethereal, full of everything that we should strive to be daily.  

As I have grown older, preparing to step into the (overwhelmingly big) shoes of my parents in creating this whimsical, truly surreal atmosphere, I am further amazed by them.  The adult world, even in the season, is so far from Christmas. Self-seeking, hateful, wrinkling its nose in disgust at the other's success. Up to my elbows in flour, I am that rebellious baker again. Initiating the festivities way too early because the world is in a drought of good. Turning ingredients into celebration of what should be, not necessarily what is. Christmas lives in the hearts of those who keep it.

  "I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year!"--ES, Dickens.

As we draw closer to Christmas, I find myself returning to the season’s favorite characters. Santa, Rudolph, Frosty and Burl Ives’ Snowmen, Tim Allen (he’s a fixture at this point!).  The ones that have captured my heart, however, are Christmas’s villains.  Scrooge, cold, secluded, materialistic.  The Grinch, menacing and vengeful. The Abominable Snowman, violent and rancorous. The Winter Warlock, wicked and eager to prevent Santa’s success, among others.  

Once we travel further into the story lines, however, Dickens, Seuss and the like challenge us to empathize with their holiday rogues.  Scrooge, fearful to be loved with the potential of loss, deemed useful only for his wealth, clinging to the tangible as all else seems to flee. The Grinch, shunned, rejected for his differences, and deserted by all of Whoville. The Abominable, slandered, baring his teeth in the face of solitude and rejection. The Warlock, left alone, demonized, disabled by fear of criticism.  

It is Rudolph, however, whose growth that I find to be most representative of the Christmas Spirit.  Marked disposable by those close to him, most went along with the pack, aside from one. It is Clarice who saved Rudolph from villainism, boldly befriending him and elevating his unique gifts by being heard as the lone voice in all the North Pole.  It is Clarice, Yukon, Cindy-Lou, the open hearts of Cratchit and Fred, Santa himself who pressed against the comfort of popularity to champion the sacred "right" thing. 

I encourage everyone, in the true spirit of this season, to second guess the “villains” you hear about. Those people you join in gossip about to fit in, the people you hear spoken so poorly of that don’t speak out themselves, the alienated, the excluded.  Exchange the ill-directed chatter for another subject, insert a compliment, silence the Mean Girl in your group and in your own thoughts. 

Let your gift be the spirited heart of Clarice and the awareness that the true villains may just as well live amongst the citizens of Whoville as they might reside atop Mount Crumpit. Make love heard, even if you must be the lone, shouting voice. There are, for sure, more to follow.

 Be accountable to the command to love as we have been so loved by Him.