What have they done to Christmas?

Or should I say ‘we’?

I loved Christmas when I was a child. Not just the presents, everything about it, midnight Mass, the carols (sung by angels, it seemed), the crib in the back of the church where we placed little bundles of straw we’d been collecting … one for each good deed we performed (I never had more than a tiny pile); going to bed, hardly able to sleep, slightly afraid we hadn’t been ‘good’ enough to get any presents, but somehow knowing that ‘Santa’ was not a stern judge; awakening to find the pillow cases stuffed with toys, plus a stocking full of sweets and tiny novelties; then the family gatherings with grandparents, aunts and uncles and cousins – and finally the Christmas feast of homemade treats.

Our family didn’t have much money, so the gifts were modest, but they brought delight nevertheless.

Simpler, more innocent times.

I continued to love Christmas, despite the growing commercialism, all the way to grownup-hood, and tried to revisit some of the wonder on my own child. I was successful to some extent. I think he loved his childhood Christmases too.

Thirty years later, most of the joy has gone – along with the parents, grandparents, uncles and aunts. Where there once were heaps of children, now there are very few. Modern life has taken its toll. I am no longer part of a ‘close’ family.

Mine is not a unique story, and – from what I observe – many people today dread their family get-togethers, and find the pre-Christmas rush of present-buying traumatic. One wonders how many of the presents given reflect any genuine knowledge of the receivers’ tastes, interests and passions. Some have adopted the practice of giving money or store vouchers thus taking the ‘risk’ out of giving, but simultaneously removing the personal touch.

Last night my husband and I went into the city to do our bit. I remarked on the way that, for a nation that has recently made such a fuss about being ‘Christian’ there was remarkably little sign of Christ in the leadup to his ‘birthday’. Santas everywhere, reindeer, tinsel and baubles, the occasional angel. We searched in vain for a single nativity scene. Political correctness? I don’t really think so. Surely it can’t be politically incorrect to have SOME sign of Christ in a feast we call Christmas.

Then we dropped into an Oxfam store (Community Aid Abroad … don’t know if that’s specifically an Australian organisation or not) and there, prominently displayed amongst the items for sale, was a lovely ‘folk art’ set of nativity figures – from Peru. It was a little more expensive than I could afford, but I bought it anyway and it now has pride of place in my living room – I rather like the international implications of a Peruvian madonna and child in a Brisbane house.

I’m not sure about the literal truth of the Christmas story, but I don’t think it matters really. I like the idea of a ‘god’ who placed his son amongst the poor and humble.

And I think, Christian or not, we need at least once a year to focus on giving to others, to those we love, and to those who have no-one to love them. Rather than throw away Christmas, let’s reclaim its true spirit.

We don’t have to adopt the crass commercialism around us. It’s within OUR power to restore the true beauty of the Christmas message.

Now, let’s see if I can put together enough random acts of kindness within the next two weeks to add more than a thimbleful of straw to my Christmas crib.