It's Christmas Eve, Dick. Christmas, Ebenezer!
Mamacita says: I really don’t know how anyone could ever say it better than Charles Dickens, unless it was Ma Ingalls, who assured Laura and Mary that if everyone wanted everyone else to be happy all the time, then every day would be Christmas. I believe this to be absolutely true.
Haven’t you noticed by now that almost every time you hope and wish and strive for someone else’s happiness, you end up happier yourself? Sometimes, not getting what we wanted for Christmas means we get something else that’s even better. As far as I’m concerned, helping and watching others get what THEY wanted is the best part of the season.
It disgusts me out every pore of my very large body bothers me when people keep Christmas contained in a house or – far worse – in a church. Dressing up and hanging out with other dressed-up people all of whom are going home to near-opulence, comparatively speaking, and feeling justified and holy because they went through the motions and recited the words without actually doing anything about them really doesn’t seem like Christmas proper to me. These days, a lot of Christmas services are more like recitals and concerts with divas than anything spiritual or meaningful. Gold, frankincense and myrrh were meant to be given away, not draped around the church. How many of those overdressed bedecked people plan to do anything for anyone but themselves this Christmas? I am not impressed by glitzy ceremony and diva performances at church.
I am also disgusted that the very places that most need volunteers and donations are near capacity with the needy and extremely short-handed with the volunteers on church nights. Shouldn’t those be the very times the most people gather together to DO for others, not just sit around and talk about it?
Preaching to the choir only reassures and reaffirms already-held thoughts and beliefs. Festooning a church with expensive fake greenery seems an outrageous use of money that would be better spent supplying a soup kitchen or providing Christmas for several families in the area. On Christmas, why not shut the church’s door and send the church’s people out to actually, physically, help real people in their own areas who are in desperate need?
If all you did this season was decorate, purchase, bake, dress up, party, sing/play/work/plan only at/for church, or sit at home relaxing in front of the TV, shame on you. Next year, try to do better than that. Next year, don’t dress up and head for the mall or the church (unless it’s headquarters for the donations which you are going to help distribute); bundle up and get out there and make Christmas really happen for people who might not know what you’ve known for years. Don’t preach to them; let your actions do that for you. Action, people, not words. Words can be empty. Words ARE empty without accompanying action.
If your church’s Christmas focuses on the shop window glitter, performance, and in-house words/deeds/actions, maybe it’s time to seek a real church – one that has substance behind the glowing windows: a church that encourages its worshipers to walk out of the church and into the lives of the people.
Words are cheap. Action takes effort. Without the effort, Christmas isn’t the only meaningless thing in people’s lives.
Seriously. If your church doesn’t know the names of almost every person in its immediate neighborhood, what good is it? What good is it if it concentrates on sending packages and money overseas and ignores the needy right across the street?
It’s better to do a kindness at home than go afar to burn incense. –Chinese proverb
Heh. She said “dick.”
Yes, Internet, There IS A Santa Claus.
Mamacita says: It makes me sad that so many parents are not allowing their children to dwell in the world of innocent fantasy. These parents feel that to allow it is equivalent to lying to their children about what is real and what isn’t.
Don’t they understand that to a child, both worlds are real? I’ll go one further: to all people of any age who retain their believing hearts, and who use their brains as God (and biology) intended, both worlds are real, too.
My daughter was seven when she asked the question I’d been dreading for seven years: “Mommy, is there really a Santa Claus?”
However, thanks to Caroline Quiner Ingalls, I knew exactly how to answer her. And, this answer fully satisfied my little child, and me.
Laura and Mary’s Ma knew how to explain to her children about Santa Claus without destroying their faith in miracles and magic:
. . . then Laura had a chance to speak without interrupting. She said “There isn’t any fireplace.”
“Whatever are you talking about?” Ma asked her.
“Santa Claus,” Laura answered.
“Eat your supper, Laura, and let’s not cross bridges till we come to them,” said Ma.
Laura and Mary knew that Santa Claus could not come down a chimney when there was no chimney. One day Mary asked Ma how Santa Claus could come. Ma did not answer. Instead, she asked, “What do you girls want for Christmas?”
. . . “Ma!” (Laura) cried. “there IS a Santa Claus, isn’t there?”
“Of course there’s a Santa Claus, said Ma. She set the iron on the stove to heat again.
“The older you are, the more you know about Santa Claus,” she said. “You are so big now, you know he can’t be just one man, don’t you? You know he is everywhere on Christmas Eve. He is in the Big Woods, and in Indian Territory, and far away in York State, and here. He comes down all the chimneys at the same time. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes, Ma,” said Mary and Laura.
“Well,” said Ma. “then you see – “
“I guess he is like angels,” Mary said, slowly. And Laura could see that, just as well as Mary could.
Then Ma told them something else about Santa Claus. He was everywhere, and besides that, he was all the time.
Whenever anyone was unselfish, that was Santa Claus.
Christmas Eve was the time when everybody was unselfish. On that one night, Santa Claus was everywhere, because everybody, all together, stopped being selfish and wanted other people to be happy. And in the morning you saw what that had done.
“If everybody wanted everybody else to be happy, all the time, then would it be Christmas all the time?” Laura asked, and Ma said, “Yes, Laura.”
–from On the Banks of Plum Creek, by Laura Ingalls Wilder
You’re welcome.
Why Do We Put Up With These People?
Mamacita says: If someone could please tell me why we should continue to put up with, ie enable, adults who feel they’ve somehow got a right to be jerks in public, I’d appreciate knowing.
I’m not talking about people who start World Wars or draw blood. I’m talking about people who get in the 20 items line with a mounded cartful. I’m talking about people who cut the line or save places for people thus enabling them to cut the line. I’m talking about people who park in the handicapped spot without a plate or hangar. I’m talking about people who let their kids open packages and play with toys that aren’t theirs and then leave them at the checkout. I’m talking about people who send their kids to the toy department to sit on the floor, open things, and play, while Mommy shops. I’m talking about people who eat and drink in a store, or, worse, let their kids eat and drink in a store, leaving a sticky, crumbly trail that would have led Hansel and Gretel right straight back home. I’m talking about people who bring dinner in crackly bags to the theater, and hold conversations through the movie. I’m talking about people who talk loudly on cell phones in public places. I’m talking about litterbugs, and tailgaters, and adults who have temper tantrums pretty much anywhere. I’m talking about people who scream at the little teenage checkout girl because she can’t take their expired coupons, or really for any reason. (Do they really believe it’s her problem, or is she just handy and an easy target?)
(I saw that last one just yesterday. A lady woman melted down at the cash register because the cashier couldn’t take ALL of her coupons for one purchase. She totally showed the entire store what kind of person she was, screaming “It’s not fair! It’s not fair! and banging the counter with her fist. On the bright side, the manager opened up another register since that one was, um, busy trying to handle the tantrum-throwing adult woman who, since she was a proven idiot, I don’t mind saying that she was also immensely obese, ugly, and her mother had dressed her funny.) (I do not think such thoughts about nice people.)
I am all for cutting small children slack, but adults? When it comes to public behavior? No. I tend to be meaner than a shithouse snake when it comes to passing judgment on adults who behave like a Willy Wonka golden ticket winner in public places.
Am I unreasonable? I don’t think so. Public places merit cooperation among those who choose to go there, and that means using our public manners, which should be extremely good, even extraordinary, manners. I have VERY little tolerance for adults who make the choice to misbehave in public. And by “very little” what I really mean is “none.” I despise adults who don’t act politely in public.
You know. . . . jerks. Bad people. Idiots. Morons. Nasty people who ruin experiences for nice people. Entitled people who feel they’re somehow above the rules. Adults who believe they’re exceptions, and should be able to do whatever they want. Grown men and women who demand more than their fair share of, well, anything.
Am I perhaps a little bit TOO mean towards such people?
No, actually, I don’t think I’m mean enough.
And if you want to argue with me about this issue, I might as well add this: I would totally shop exclusively at any store that had the guts and gumption to approach these people and require them to do “it” right, whichever “it” the stupid person was violating, and escort them out if they refuse. And I would really, REALLY enjoy it if the store called the police and pressed charges against these people when they refused to behave.
P.S. I hope they start with the people who feel their business is so important that they’ve got the right to go through the 20 items line with that mounded cartful. I really, really despise those people. I’d hate to have their nerve in a tooth.
P.P.S. I’m not really a mean person. I’m just sick and tired of society putting up with mean, selfish, childish adults in public. The more we put up with them, the meaner and more entitled they’ll get.
I maintain that nice people should trump mean people. Everywhere. In everything.
Bring it on. Tell us why you’re the exception.
