Christmas Ritual

(Note: I took a writing class a couple years ago -- as a non-traditional student -- and decided to write about Christmas shopping for the assigned topic of Rituals. Edith is a good writer, and I asked her to look at my essay. Boy-oh-boy, did I hit a sore spot. I thought she would like it some or at least have a little laugh. Instead, I got my annual Christmas lecture, only a little earlier than usual.)

On a Saturday in early November, I made a trip to my favorite hardware store, but I sensed that something was wrong. This was my haven, a place where I could examine a seemingly limitless collection of screws, nuts and bolts of different sizes, colors and shapes. What was it that was causing me to be distracted and just a little bit irritable? I usually hear soft rock music when admiring the sleek, carbon-handled hammers. However, on that day, I heard Christmas music.  Oh no! The first signs of Christmas were already here!

There are many rituals surrounding Christmas, but it is the accumulation and display of  an unending supply of  Christmas crafts in our home that I have come to dread. My wife, Edith, and I have a fundamental difference of opinion at this time of year. In a perfect world, where everything would be done my way, there would be a freshly-cut tree at the front window decorated with a star and a few simple garlands. There would be a small manger scene on the fireplace mantle and a wreath on the front door.

However, I do not live in a perfect world. Edith, by one means or another, has amassed a mountain of Christmas crafts. Early in our marriage, there were few decorations and they were, admittedly, a pathetic looking representation of the Christmas season. Changes soon began to take place as to both quality and to quantity. This was insidious, and by the time I figured out that something was different, numerous other acquisitions had taken place. The additions came mainly from three sources. They were built , they were purchased and they were received as gifts.

Most of the crafts that were constructed were done while Edith belonged to Kindervelt, a group of women who made Christmas decorations for the annual Christmas sale which was for the benefit of Children's Hospital. This meant that I was the baby sitter for our two sons on one or two nights a week while she met with her group to fashion Christmas tree reindeers  from clothespins. There were always some extra reindeers for our Christmas tree. Edith always helped with the annual sale and there were about 100 different Kindervelt groups selling Christmas card holders made from Clorox bottles and other creatively constructed crafts. Many women must be overcome with an irresistible urge to acquire when they see the  display of  all those "cute" Christmas decorations. There was always a noticeable change in the decorations found at our house at this time of year.

Edith no longer belongs to Kindervelt and she tells me that there are no longer any crafts that appeal to her. I know better. It would be more accurate to say that she no longer longs to make crafts herself, but is willing to spend some of my hard-earned  money on the latest gingerbread ornament shaped like an angel. Her mother visited from out of town and Edith asked me to drop the two of them off at the Christmas craft sale, sponsored by the local school, and to pick them up later. The traffic at the sale was very heavy and was directed by five policeman. Only Edith's mother was to buy something. She needed it as a thank you gesture for the neighbors who had helped her throughout the year. When I picked them up later, at the pre-arranged time, they had sheepish looks and large bulging shopping bags. My wife, supposedly unaffected by the lure of any craft, used her excellent word skills to avoid any direct discussion of the purchases. I knew that the inventory had just grown.

The third major source of  Christmas crafts at our house is from gifts. My idea of a Christmas gift is an umbrella, socks, underwear and, if  I am in a particularly festive mood, a tee shirt with a clever caricature or quote. I  absolutely do not understand why it is necessary to give decorations as presents. Both Edith's sister and my sister have given us such gifts for years and years. This places me in a difficult position because if I am critical, I appear to be critical of  the people that I love and care for. The situation is further complicated when Edith's  fifth grade students, at St. Williams School, give her Christmas gifts. It almost goes without saying that these gifts are virtually all decorations with a Christmas motif. When I suggest, in a friendly way, that this is just too much, I am met with a response that each item is special and it must be kept out of respect for each child.

Whether these Christmas crafts are personally constructed, purchased or received as gifts, there has to be a place to store them when the holiday season is over. I thought that I had come up with a way to finally control the uncontrollable. I had built a sizable storage area under the basement steps for  Edith to use in storing  her Christmas decorations. We had a pact that she would keep only what would fit in this space. Henry Kissinger, at his zenith, could not have been more proud than I was of this agreement. However, my wife's acquisition ritual continues each year and our Christmas collection continues to grow. How can this be happening? Maybe there are some things that I am to never understand.

When Christmas finally arrives, the house is decorated from top to bottom. When the family gathers, we share good food, love, forgiveness and friendship. And there are presents. I always love to get presents and I love to see others enjoy their presents. Although I must keep it to myself, there are usually some new Christmas decorations that I like. There were a whole flock of angels on the piano in the year just past that I silently admired. I always thought that Edith looked like an angel. When I have some time to myself on Christmas morning, I like to sit by the Christmas tree and look around the room. The decorations and how they got there do not seem so important anymore. It is a time to savor at the season and to recognize those things that are really important. These are the people in my life, the people that I love.  

March 1995, Carl H.

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