Thursday, December 23, 2010

The Christians who stole Christmas?

Well maybe not, but then again …

I don’t know about you but at this time of the year I get increasingly grumpy with all the onerous “to do” lists. Things that I have lived with all year suddenly need cleaning. Even the dog has been spruced up this morning so he is fit for an audience with Grandma!

And that doesn’t even begin to touch on the expense. Not just in presents – which I can just about manage to keep to sensible levels – but the food that we don’t really need, the booze that none of us normally drink. On and on it goes.

But the things I do love about this time of year are making phone calls to friends to catch up; spending time, precious, precious time, with my family; and looking on fondly at my clean house and the Christmas tree. The only time, it seems, when everything has been done at once (albeit with those grumblings) and everything comes together.

I have been working a day a week in my old job, just to relieve some of the pressure on Graham, the boss. A lady who has only recently come across my desk seems to be able to say everything I want to say, in particular about Christmas.

I have been a non-believer ever since I can remember. But there are still bits of Christmas we can all enjoy, no matter where we come from, our culture or our beliefs. And it seems, judging by the comments on her article there are plenty of others out there coming from the same place as Chrys and myself.

We published this article from her on Friday. It is brilliant and I highly recommend it:

Reason’s Greetings
By Chrys Stevenson

I always loved our local Carols by Candlelight. A rag-tag rabble of local school kids would straggle onto a rickety stage in a seaside park to sing Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer and Six White Boomers. I delighted in spotting the kid (there was always one) who looked like they’d just beamed in from a galaxy far, far away with no idea why they were dressed in flashing reindeer antlers in the middle of a line of all singing, all dancing 10-year-olds.

Comfortably ensconced in a BYO canvas deck chair, I’d sip brandy-spiked coffee from a thermos as I waited for a lolly-throwing Santa to arrive to hoots, whistles, cheers and thunderous applause. One year, I nearly wet myself laughing when Santa, turbo-charged with Christmas spirit, made a wobbly entrance then pitched head-first into the audience, precisely as if he’d just discovered a convenient chimney.

(Read the rest here)
Merry Christmas to all of you!