No snow, much to Big Brother's chagrin. "But Christmas is supposed to have snow!" Well, it doesn't snow a whole lot where we live. "Why not?" It doesn't get cold enough. "awwwww maaaaaannnn"
I didn't grow up with snow on Christmas; it wasn't even cold. I don't remember it being a big problem, even when we did sing things like "jingle bells" and "white christmas." One of many cases where the dominant americanized culture where we lived led to some fascinating contradictions.
Here's what I do remember:
1. The nativity scenes displayed on almost every major building and in front of many houses. We happened to live in some pretty rich neighborhoods, so we saw some elaborate displays. Which didn't entail good taste, necessarily: I remember one that looked like a giant alien baby had been lowered onto the portico at the front of the house. It was hideous.
2. Carolers. lots of traditional caroling, which often meant that a mob of children gathered outside our gate and sang "jingle bells" (or the Tagalog version, "kling kling kling, klang klang klang") at the top of their lungs. Often accompanied by piece of metal being clashed into another (in time, usually). It was the custom to go out and provide them with a treat or reward: a few coins, or some cookies, etc.
3. I remember the Christmas after I learned that Santa gets significant help from my parents: that was the year I got my HO-scale train set. It may be the best present I ever got as a kid. I managed not to break it for a good long while, actually.
Anyway. Enough of that. Seems like I always look backwards at Christmas. This time, though, I'm looking around, at each of us, at each of the people I know, all of us looking for a true connection with someone else--someone to tell us that we do matter, that we are a light on their tree. Maybe even THE light on their tree. I often say (and the spouse takes no offense to this, worry not) that I'd be okay living by myself, just as a matter of personality. But not on a day like this. We all need somebody to love & to love us.
Either that, or I'm getting carried away, which seems to happen an awful lot.
1 comment:
Great memories of Christmas past - especially the huge baby Jesus we all remember. Often the carolers were adult men who "played" instruments and sang even though they knew not the words. This was especially true when we lived at Retiro and in the Scout Delgado house.
You will always be THE light on the tree for your wife and children and a light for more people than you will ever know. My tree would be very, very dark without you my son! Thanks for sharing your Christmas thoughts.
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