Six About Christmas

If you go to the homepage of Google.com today you will find the following Google Doodle created just for the holidays:

The symbols begin to sparkle and dance to the tune of "Jingle Bells" when you click on the square below each icon of the holidays.  Of course, this will probably be gone tomorrow or the next day.  Christmas doesn't last forever...especially on the Internet.  By Monday we will be launching full-bore into wrapping up 2011 and predictions for 2012.  But before the page is turned, I found myself thinking about these symbols and how for me, they represent personal memories for me about the holidays.  After some sixty Christmases, I am allowed to ruminate and reflect.

SNOWFLAKES

So many things come to mind when I think about snowflakes.  They are unique.  No two are ever exactly the same.  How do they know this?  I don't know, but it one of those things I have learned to accept as true after many hours as a kid in who chased snowflakes in the Michigan winters and tried to compare.  Snowflakes do not last in your hand, even if you are wearing a mitten.  They are best gathered together to make snowballs and snow forts.  And as pretty as they are as they fall from the grey cast sky, they can portend mornings spent shoveling their carcasses up into great piles.  But then again, I remember many a wonderful hour spent creating snow angels on the ground.

SANTA CLAUS

Santa is still the guy at Christmas.  And for whatever reason, I still believe in Santa Claus.  He may have morphed from various legends from lands and times long ago, but the Santa I grew up with was generous, jolly and a beacon of hope.  We knew as the world turned and night came on, Santa began his journey across the sky with his eight tiny reindeer (and sometimes Rudolph with his red nose) to visit the homes of children everywhere, naughty or nice.  All could be forgiven on Christmas Eve.  I actually remember hearing the bells of his sleigh as it approached my house as, darn it, I fell asleep and never caught him coming down our chimney.

Bells

Silver Bells is one of my favorite Christmas carols.  "Its Christmas time in the city. Hear them ring, ting a ling, soon it will be Christmas Day".  There was always snow at Christmas in Michigan.  And it was true, the shoppers and people rushing through the cold winter air to the peeling of the merry Christmas bells.  The ringing of bells is the sound of joy.  Something wonderful is happening and once again, the hope of a blessed event is once again told.  

Snowmen

Well, how many times have I sung Frosty the Snowman?  How many snowmen did I build when I was a kid, and even as an adult before moving to sunny California, with the unfounded hope that maybe, just maybe, this Frosty would spring to life.  And then, eventually, they would begin to melt, tumble over and be gone for another year.  But just like some many other stories at Christmastime, there is always that pervasive hope and certain knowledge that "he'll be back again one day...."

Candles

I always wanted to burn candles in the window.  Unfortunately fear of burning the house down kept me from doing so.  My grandmother made these hand-crafted candles out of the tube packages from the girdles and bras (yes, I am not kidding here) that she kept from the ladies' garment store where she worked in Birmingham, MI.  They were varying heights and wrapped with silver or gold foil.  My grandfather wired them and used the red and yellow tree lights to make the flame.  Simple, yes, but they were wonderful.  She made them for friends, family and neighbors starting in the early fall.  And they sat in many a window and atop many fireplace mantles aglow.

Christmas
Packages

Is there anything more appealing than a cheerily wrapped package with ribbons and bows?  Under the tree, they capture the imagine and wonderment of anyone who sees them.  Shake them a bit, hold them to your ear, even sniff them, and the guessing game would go on.  The imagination would sometimes exceed the reality of what was inside, which is when I learned that living in anticipation is not always a bad thing.  It could be anything.  The possibilities are endless.

Truthfully, the wrapping for me was sometimes the gift.  It seemed somewhat decadent to rip into them, destroying the beauty, the image, the mystery.  But then again, opening presents from someone who went to all the trouble wrap it just for you (or have it wrapped, it doesn't matter), is one of the great joys of life.  Another is seeing the delight in somebody's eyes when you hand them a Christmas package and the little child inside them surfaces once again.