Don't Knock Yourself If You're Not Feeling the Christmas Spirit

Don’t knock yourself if you’re not feeling the Christmas spirit this year, or if you think that everyone else feels warm and fuzzy and hot-chocolatey already.  A lot of people aren’t there yet either. It’s not because the world is coming to an end (unless it is) or because no one cares anymore, or because the season is just about commercialism or because politics is messing everything up.

It doesn’t always knock you down like a friendly golden retriever. More often, it’s like a campfire in the dark: you have to protect it and blow on it, give it little bits of dry moss and tinder. It’s not about having a lot of matches or a flamethrower, it’s about a spark or two and a little bit of air at the right time.

Mike and I were at Whole Foods yesterday, and noticed as we arrived at the checkout stand that a line was forming about 20 feet away. It turned out to be a line of kids waiting for Whole Foods’ Santa. The cashier, a young woman with neatly described black Cleopatra wings at the corners of her eyes, and a surfeit of earrings, said jokingly, “Oh boy, crying babies for the next 8 hours!” We laughed and groused along with her about how kids who are afraid of fake Santas have every right to be. Then Santa arrived, and everyone sort of shut up about the whole creepiness thing, like we'd been caught talking behind his back. He looked like a naturally fluffy guy underneath, with a big, curling, gorgeous silver-white fake beard that rolled in tendrils down his belly, in a nice red velour outfit that wasn’t too cheap.

All the grownups turned to look and everyone smiled. The very first little girl, 3 or 4, was old enough not to be scared, and young enough to truly believe. She looked charmed—star-struck even, tucking her chin into her shoulder just a little bit to stave off the shyness she felt at being so overwhelmed by his wonderfulness. To her, he was really and truly magical. She appeared to be starting right in on her list, chattering away, tilting her head a little to look up at him out of the corner of her eye. The three of us at the checkout couldn’t stop sneaking peeks at her and smiling. Just now, writing that, the preciousness of that perfect, hopeful, believing little girl made the tears just stream down my cheeks.

That there is the currency of joy, my friends. That is what we are sharing.

I don’t know what touches your heart this time of year, but when it does, protect it, blow on it a little... and let it.