Christmas Magic

Posted on | December 16, 2009 | No Comments

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exists, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy.

I love Christmas. I love everything about Christmas. Whether it’s singing along to Christmas carols, baking up a storm of cookies in the kitchen or indulging in a Christmas movies marathon, there’s really nothing about this holiday that I don’t love. When I was younger, I lived all year for Christmas time.

One of the things I love best, however, is how strong and vivid my memories of Christmases past are. More than any other time of year, Christmas provides me with some of the sharpest, best defined and happiest memories. And as far as I can tell, there’s really only one reason why.

Magic.

Or, more precisely, the magic of Christmas. Oh, you might think I’m naïve or foolish for believing in such a thing, but I truly think it’s alive and well. Only at Christmas could we easily believe the things we do.

We have no doubt that ghosts of the past, present and future can change the course of a man’s life. We readily accept the existence of elves in the frigged ice of the north. We don’t question the journey of three wandering kings and we know, without hesitation, that a little baby’s birth in a barn far from home is special for many reasons.

Even when life is tough, even when things aren’t always perfect, Christmas gives us hope that things will get better. Christmas allows us to dream big, to imagine any possibility we might think of. Under the spell of its magic, the most jaded and cynical scrooge can become a marshmallow at Christmastime.

Sure, there are lots of people who still think Christmas is about commercialism and buying enough presents to sink the Titanic. And yes, there definitely is some of that. But real, true Christmas magic is so much more.

That’s why Christmas memories are particularly potent. When I look back at the memories I have, I don’t remember what toys I received or even how many there were. I do, however, remember the people, the way the fireplace crackled as we attempted yet another family picture, the way frosted shredded wheat make good shingles on a gingerbread house, the eagerness and anticipation of going to sleep and waking up. I’m remembering Christmas magic.

What makes Christmas (or any winter holiday you might celebrate) magical for you?

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