I write something like this each year. We all have our own idea of the Christmas season – and some have none. For those with faith, it is the hallmark of charity, love, and kindness, enveloped by the majesty of the celebration of their faith. For others, it is a secular celebration of family, friends, surprises, and time spent together. It is also a time of unreachable loss and loneliness precisely because our memories of love and family can’t help but be tinged by the nostalgia of times no longer within our reach. For others? It is a struggle of choices to afford to surprise their children, family, and friends with gifts worthy of their attention. 

Regardless of its significance, we all own a piece of the Christmas season. Even the Christians wisely appropriated the winter solstice celebration to change the celebration of the birth of their savior. It does not lessen its profound meaning for them. 

“The Gift of the Magi” is my quintessential Xmas story. Both husband and wife sacrificed what was most valuable to them to give the best gift possible. 

We all have within our reach the ability to give everyone the gift of joy and acceptance. No matter how they choose to celebrate. 

Each year, most of us universally agree that the ideal of Christmas lies not in things but in moments and thoughts of others, in profound observation of faith, and in our ability to celebrate collectively.

Regardless of why or how we are here, we are all here with our respective lives, beliefs, and attitudes. 

Let not the harshness of personal conviction blind any of us to the joy of having a season in which we need no further excuse or justification to surprise one another, to be appreciative, and to find a way to look past the differences we each exercise during our celebrations. 

Love, X

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