A Frame of Mind

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas, ev’rywhere you go…” I hear old Bing croon in my head more and more as the big day approaches. A few years ago someone asked me how was my Christmas. Rather than promptly retorting with the expected great or wonderful, I paused and thought for a moment and then shrugged, “Okay, I guess. I find as I grow older memories of Christmases past give me more pleasure.” Being an old soul he nodded and I could see he understood.

As a child I believed in the two most sacred tenets of the holiday: Baby Jesus and Santa Claus. Both icons personified goodness, kindness, and generosity, along with possessing the superpowers to fulfill every child’s wish. Possibly within the whimsical meanderings of a youngster’s developing psyche they are somehow one and the same. Understandable, for many homes displayed the hallowed crèche underneath a Christmas tree adorned with ornaments decorated with the more commercial symbols of the season.

After my children had grown I could no longer vicariously anticipate Santa’s late night visit and the following morning’s site of an astonishing array of gifts wondrously displayed under the tree. Like many parents I possess a myriad of photographs of moments frozen in time of the expressions of awe and delight on the faces of my children as they excitedly unwrapped gift after gift. To think of all that exhausting preparation and toil spent in a few frenzied moments.

Now I find myself enjoying the simpler aspects of the season. Christmas trees and festive lights top my list of seasonal trappings. Simple and tasteful, mind you, not the carnival trappings some choose to bombard their homes with. A little evergreen embellished with a few twinkling lights can kindle a little Christmas cheer. Even Christmas cookies painstakingly decorated are a source of pleasure both to look at and to eat. Viewing old Christmas movies can also bring back that old holiday spirit. And until I have the pleasure of my own grandchildren (?) the excitement and anticipation within the eyes of other’s children does bring back some of that old holiday zeal. As for the real meaning of Christmas, well, I certainly can’t say, but a quote from my dad’s favorite holiday movie, Miracle on 34^th Street (1947 version), does make me ponder: “Oh, Christmas just isn’t a day, it’s a frame of mind.”