On Christmas (2024)

‘Tis the season, as it were.  A time of joy and hope, prayer and merriment.  The Christmas season is one many of us cherish, and for good reasons.  But as I sat down to consider what it means to me, I realized that answer isn’t easy to pin down. 

I have an early Christmas memory that while perhaps not my earliest chronologically, feels like my earliest spiritually.  My family and I spent the holiday at my grandpa’s ranch, and that gave us a unique opportunity.  On a day with a quiet dusting of snowflakes coming down from a gray sky, we rode out on ATVs into the woods behind his house and found a Christmas tree. 

We cut it down and brought it back, snow on its branches and the scent of pine heavy in the air—a scent I still adore to this day.  Christmas, then, meant a sense of adventure with those that I love.

Fast forward, and we enter the period I’m least proud of.  Some kids may go their entire lives focusing on what’s truly important during Christmas, but I was not one of them.  It became all about the presents, and I cringe at some of my brattier moments. 

One that stands out was how I once threw a fit when I received a package of socks, something that had been—and continues to be—something of a family tradition.  I stomped off in a huff, mortally offended that my parents would dare give me such a thing.  Christmas, then, meant taking.

Luckily, this phase ended as I matured.  Christmases started to happen at my aunt’s house, and all of the family on that side would gather together for a day of kith and kin.  Some of my best memories with my extended family come from these get togethers, generally the only time all year we would see each other.  Christmas, then, meant catching up with family I rarely saw.

My high school time and *ahem* gap year ended, seeing me off to college several states away.  This proved a tumultuous time for my family and myself, both for the normal reasons and for some unexpected ones.  But one of the constants I had was getting to travel home for the holidays each of the four years I was gone.

These visits taught me important lessons about what it means to maintain family relationships and how they take effort.  When you see your family members every day, you can’t help but expect them to be there.  When you live hundreds of miles apart, that assurance doesn’t seem so sure anymore.  Christmas, then, meant appreciating the bonds of immediate family.

Soon after graduation, I found myself stationed in Guam.  For those unfamiliar, it is an island in roughly the middle of nowhere on the other side of the world from the United States.  Ticket costs prevented me from coming home, and I spent my first Christmas apart from family. 

What stands out the most from this phase was the lack of pine scent.  I didn’t see the need to buy a tree just for myself, and I didn’t bother with any decorations.  My apartment looked much the same as it always did, spartan and functional.  What I saved in money, I lost in other ways.  Christmas, then, meant being alone. 

The next year, however, my life had a major change.  Instead of being single, I was in a committed relationship with the woman who would become my wife.  Much like the food critic from the movie Ratatouille, she does not likeChristmas—she loves it.  Her enthusiasm rubbed off on me, and the next few years saw her excitement for the season seep into my life.  We hung stockings, developed our own Christmas traditions, and fought to see who could get the other the best gag gift.

The scent of pine came back into my holiday season.

Christmas, then, meant being with the woman I love during the time of year she enjoys most.

Then, another major change—we had a son.  No longer did the Christmas season revolve around her and me, now it was her, me, and him.  And while we certainly get joy out of the season, I find that I get more now from watching his joy blossom more each year.

Our son carries such a sense of wonder within him during this time, I can’t help but be drawn in by it.  He points excitedly out the window every night when our neighbor’s decorations turn on.  He loves to read Christmas books, coming up with his own stories as he flips through pages to look at the pictures.  He stared with rapt attention at a church nativity play, drawn to the baby at the center of both the play and Christmas itself.

Soon, we will be joined by a daughter, rounding out our family to an even four.  What will she find in the Christmas season?  Joy and peace, I hope.  A focus on Christ and charity, I pray.  Regardless, I know that it will be all four of us together.  Christmas, now, means sharing in the season together with those I am closest to in this world and seeing the wonder in their eyes.

Christmas, then, isn’t one thing to everyone.  It isn’t even one thing to each of us individually.  The meaning changes with the years and our circumstances, and we can only guess what those will be in the future.  But we each have a say in our approach to the season, and I appreciate what that offers us. 

Merry Christmas to all.  Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.