Days of Christmas 2 of 3: The Ghost of Christmas Present

The visitation by the Spirit of Christmas Present has shown me that it is difficult to write a series with continuity.

In Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol the Ghost or Spirit of Christmas Present takes Ebenezer Scrooge across the city to the home of his employee Bob Cratchit. Indeed one of my favorite images is the one of Scrooge peering through the frost covered windows of the Cratchit home.  On the other side he sees expressions of familial love and cheeriness amongst the Cratchit clan.  Mother and children express signs of affection for their young sick brother and joy for the Christmas season.  But from Mrs. Cratchit we see some disdain for Mr. Scrooge.

Is it a subtle juxtaposition to have miserly Scrooge, practically naked in his nightshirt, suffering out in the frigid cold?  While on the other hand Bob and Tiny Tim, alongside mother and siblings, remove their mufflers and coats sitting at the dinner table next to the hearth with a fire blazing.  The comparison is stark. The stingy man with heaps of wealth is left outside with a cold heart and all alone, while the economically struggling and sick family exhibit joy and love despite their hardships.

As Ebenezer reflects on the meaning of this visitation, the Spirit reveals to him beneath his cloak two ashen and sullen faced children.  With the appearance of death on their bodies, they suffer from starvation and cold.  The Spirit tells Scrooge "beware" of them.  Their names are Ignorance and Want; Beware mostly of "Ignorance."

Each of us, like Scrooge, should be brought to the window and peer into the homes of friends, families, and people we know. It would give us insight to how we are perceived by those we love or who love us, or those we disdain or who hate us.  However, it is certain to make us very uncomfortable to be that vulernable.  And so we are content to be our own critics justifying our behaviors with the phrase, "I'm only human."

What is happening now all around us in homes of people?  In the midst of the Christmas season we might see warm friendly Christmas parties.  We'd see happy faces spirited with drink and food.  Colorful paper still decorates the floors; half eaten hams are in the refrigerator waiting to be made into a sandwich.  Christmas is a time of Joy, Peace, and Love.  These iconic words should never be removed from this festive occasion.

While we are still dancing we comically intimate at having emptied our pockets and given over our fortunes to the Mall, Neiman Marcus, or  (God forbid) Walmart, the reality is most of us have savings, stocks, and/or assets.

Let us not be Ignorant. There are many things that we are willing to cast a blind eye toward.  While we focus on Christmas lights, cards & mailings, toys for our children, grown up toys, and what other holy distractions we may occupy ourselves with, there is suffering Want all around us.

There are abused and neglected children.  There are breaking relationships.  There are broken people. There are the sick. There is opulence and selfishness.  There are people who anonymously cast a gratuitous golden coin into Santa's red pale once per year.  Is this actual generosity or the condescension of the lord-of-the-manner?  Is this some eccentric lord who during the holidays offers the Christmas "drippings to the poor?"  Indeed this may seem generous; perhaps it is?

Perhaps this secret Numismatist gives freely throughout the year?  And at this Christmas season he finds an opportunity to inspire others to free their spirits from ignorance of the poor?

So his actions cause us to stop and consider the meaning of his gift.  When we peer through the frosted glass and discover that even in the frivolity of Joy there is still Want.  (Crippled Tiny Tim still needed healing.)  Maybe we are confronted with the plight of the poor and are thankful that someone is doing something about it.  Or maybe we are confronted with the plight of the poor and we ourselves are moved to action.

At this point in the story we must, like Scrooge, ask what is to be done?  Are we content to remain Ignorant of the Want all around us.  What shall we do then?  What shall I do?

Days of Christmas 1 of 3: The Ghost of Christmas Past

The visitation by the first Spirit came to remind me that Christmas pilgrimages always started late in the afternoon on Christmas Eve when mother returned home from work. Our bags were packed the night before, and the journeys began with extended car rides across the vast expanse of Texas highways.  We crossed the great triangle between Houston, New Braunfuls, and Corpus Christi.  This included stops along the way to visit multiples sets of grandparents and godparents.

Our car was not just our mode of transportation but was also our rolling opera house.  Christmas Caroling was performed with radio turned off.  The three of us, mother, brother, and I would take turns picking a song to sing.  Somehow we knew every song, and if we didn't know the words, our approximations were close enough.  Silent Night was as close to church as we got during the holiday.

Wherever we arrived we were met with the hearth of loving family.  The signs of storge (the familial love) were conveyed liberally.  Affectionate hugs and giant squeezes from aunts, grandparents, cousins were readily available.  The token gesture of affection by uncles of mussing the head was always expected, although it was not always welcome, especially if it took the form of a noogie.

And the festivities began!

"You're too little; this is a grown up game. Y'all go play."  This was the mantra of the adults as we sidled up to the card table.  Our noses barely reaching the top edge of the table, we stood looking on as they played "42" and drank rum spiked eggnog, a drink that was off limits to us kids.  "You wouldn't like it" was the response to the queries of, "Can I have a taste?"

The house was bedazzled with doubled sided tinsel of shiny red and silver.  And the Christmas tree was adorned with a mixture of homemade ornaments, popcorn, and inexpensive orbs with sequins and cording.  The tree lights were the small interior lights with pointy plastic ice crystals around them.

Candy dishes were placed throughout the house with treats waiting to be gobbled up by little mouths.  Chocolate covered cherries and caramels, white after dinner mints, and cookies seemed to define Christmas for us each year.  Occasionally you might accidentally pick up a chocolate covered scotch-mallow or rum nougat which quietly and stealthily made its way back into the See's Candies box.  It wasn't uncommon to find a half-eaten chocolate in the box.

We never worried about ruining our dinner because "1" it was Christmas which meant we could do whatever we wanted; "2" we always seemed to arrive just as the Christmas turkey and ham were cooked and ready to serve.  That meant that we started with a full meal which included stuffing, mashed potatoes, green beans and giblet gravy to name just a portion of the feast.  There were cherry, apple, and pumpkin pies topped with cool whip.

When it came to opening presents we were less consistent.  Some years we opened gifts on Christmas morning while other years we opened them on Christmas eve.  Christmas church services were never a part of our family's custom.  Midnight mass was something the Romans did at St. Peter's.  The tearing of paper and ripping off of bows was our religious practice.  Sometimes family would have to work Christmas eve which always delayed our services.  Either way, the gifts never seemed to disappoint.  One year we received pop guns.  These were rifles which cocked and shot a cork attached to the end of the barrel by a string.  That was a winner!  Another year we received a guitar with nylon strings and somehow right out of the box, I miraculously played Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer.  At least the adults didn't let on otherwise.

Looking back on Christmases past, church and religion were not a part of our holiday.  The Baby Jesus with his golden fleece blanket was out there on the edge.  Even still there was love.  I wouldn't say there was a lot of peace, but there was love and joy.  Everyone in our family of course believed in Jesus.  But at least in this little boy's mind, Jesus had yet to become "the reason for the season."