Why Christmas is Awesome

It is Christmas Eve. As one of the children that will shortly be dreaming of sugarplums, no doubt, I'd like to take a few moments to reflect on my most favorite holiday. I've determined over the last few weeks that it is the family traditions that mean the most to me at this time of year. Some traditions have morphed over time as my sister and I age. There are many that I could speak of, but let me provide you with my Top 5 Christmas Traditions.

5. Oh Tannenbaum: The day after Thanksgiving used to be a sacred holiday in our household. My dad, mom, sis and I would bundle up, pack the mini van with several hours of Christmas CDs, and drive north into the Georgia/North Carolina mountains. We were on a mission to find the perfect Christmas tree. The trek almost always included an argument regarding either what was the best Christmas Tree Farm or how to find it, because we never wrote down directions year to year. And it always ended with my dad sawing down a tree that was too short for his liking and too tall for my mom's, but nearly always the perfect shape without any holes. When my sister and I were in college, we lobbied for the discontinuation of the cutting of the Christmas Tree the day after Thanksgiving; we both had to drive several hours to and from school that weekend, and the thought of spending most of the day in a car during one of our precious vacation days was too much to bear. Home Depot now supplies our trees, but I will always remember our family outings to the farms.
4. "Silent Night, Holy Night": On Christmas Eve we attend the candle lighting service at our church. The sanctuary is full for the service. When I was younger it was a chance to exchange presents with some of my best friends; now it is the one night of the year where those with whom I grew up are reunited. The last part of the service is always my favorite. Everyone receives a candle and the congregation passes the flames to each in attendance while singing all the verses of Silent Night. The lights are turned off and the room is filled with flittering lights and the sounds of earthly angels singing. I'm not sure I have ever been able to sing all the words as I'm inevitably choked up by the beauty and the peace of the moment.
3. "And Then... And Then...": Mongolian Beef ... and then... House Special Fried Rice... and then... Crab Rangoons... and then...  If you have no idea what I'm talking about, please watch this clip from Dude, Where's My Car. As we leave church Christmas Eve night, we call our favorite Chinese Food take out joint and place our order for our feast. We kill 15 minutes driving around neighborhoods looking at Christmas lights before we pick up dinner. It is the same Chinese Food we get on any other night, but it always seems to taste extra good on Christmas Eve.
2. Christmas Carols: When malls, radios, and TV commercials start playing Christmas music November 1st, I am that person you despise, because I completely and utterly love it. I am that sap that tunes to Delilah's Christmas call-in radio show and cries when they play "I'll be Home for Christmas". I look forward to the Hershey's Kiss commercial where they play "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" on bells and the Coca-Cola bears' newest cheesy moment. I do not tire of "Feliz Navidad," "Jingle Bell Rock" or the one about the hippopotamus, which by anyone's measure may be the 3 most annoying songs ever written. Stores want to start playing Christmas music the day after Labor Day? Bring it. A million years ago I took piano lessons, and the songs I still know how to play best are carols. Dad is a kindred spirit, though probably not to the same extent. He has been known to play Christmas music during our Thanksgiving dinner.
1. Santa: I think I was well into high school when I asked my parents if Santa was still coming to our house. My mom told me that as long as I believed, he would still come. I'm 26 years old, and Santa still visits. My sister and I each have a pile of stuff waiting when we get up Christmas Day. When we were younger we gave explicit instructions to my mother as to whose pile of toys goes where and she passed these instructions dutifully to Santa. We no longer do that as we can immediately recognize whose pile is whom's by the clothes or other assorted items we have already picked out for ourselves. When my sister and I were very young and went to my grandparent's house for Christmas, Santa visited us there, too. I've seen pictures of me at what must be about 2 years old and my mini kitchen - I had wanted "cookin'" for Christmas. Who knew then that plastic food and ovens would lead to something I now love! I've kept and treasured the dollhouse that my papa made. We also have a detailed account of every Santa visit. I'm confident that there is video record of every Christmas morning. I'm sure if you bribed my parents (or maybe just ask nicely) you can have tomorrow's tape of a 26 and 23 year old coming down the stairs, rummaging through their Santa pile while in pajamas (I'm wearing particularly offensive ones tonight. Someone in my family said I look like I'm wearing a TV test pattern) while off-screen voices ask "Ooo, what's that?"and "What did Santa bring this year?" as if they don't already know. I'm fully aware that there is not a jolly fat man in a red suit shimmying down my chimney. I also know that there is no chance that my parents would wrap all the presents that they spoil my sister and me with each year either. And so, I still believe in the spirit of Santa. And till the pitter-patter of feet smaller than mine are in our house Christmas Day, he will continue to leave me a pile of goodies. And that is just fine with me.