The lights didn’’t make Christmas “Christmas.” What’s behind them did. I applaud those who put up such luminous masterpieces, like this:
Or this:
But lights don’t make Christmas “Christmas.” And presents don’t, either. And big trees aren’t any better than small trees. We had a friend who befriended outcasts. She went to a Christmas tree lot and asked for the smallest, most pathetic tree on the lot. Amazed, the man who sold her the tree said, “I’ve never had anyone ever ask for that before.” So of course, we questioned her about where she bought it, and we asked him the same thing. Made his Christmas.
People used to wait until after Thanksgiving to put up lights, but someone we know put them up after Halloween. Same with Christmas trees. Many were up the day after Thanksgiving. Tree farms were low on inventory. Lines were long. We don’t always send out Christmas cards, but this year we knew we should.
Our three kids live nearby. We always have one day, not on Christmas itself, when we celebrate together. We did it this year, too. On Zoom.
Facing Christmas head-on this year brought out pluck, determination, and ingenuity. At the end of one of the most troubling years in our lives, we were determined to bring joy back into our lives first by ignoring the caterwauling from the White House. Then, by sending and sharing love and sympathy to all those who are affected by Covid-19. knowing that the empty chairs at Christmas dinner symbolize the unspeakable pain and sorrow that so many suffer. And third, we recognize the injustices that blacks and Latinos face in both the political arena and in the courts. And now we see these injustices mirrored in the pandemic, recognizing that people of color are not only more likely to become infected but to die from it at younger ages. We commit ourselves to doing more than just acknowledging the pain and suffering by providing support as we can.
This is where the lights come in. This is where the poinsettias, the fruitcakes, the amaryllis, the wreaths, the gifts from neighbor to neighbor, the tiny trees in apartment windows, the caroling at six foot intervals, the Zoom family gatherings, Jadyne’s armband lights for running in the dark, my PurpleAir sensor and Magic hoses, and last the resolutions, even before the New Year, that there is work we can do to supplant despair and depression.
It’s now been four days since the winter solstice. The days are getting longer. The new year is upon us. The vaccine has arrived. Hope, love, kindness, friendship, empathy, defiance, resistance, are an unquenchable part of the human spirit. At the end of 2020, after so many losses from Trump, to Covid, to smoky skies, we look forward to the challenges that face us this new year with conviction, love, and optimism.