The holiday spirit doesn’t just automatically appear on the same schedule for me each year. I try, though; usually I put up the Christmas tree and decorations on Thanksgiving Day. I started that process this year, but my heart wasn’t in it. Some technical difficulties with the tree lights delayed the decorations a few days, and kept the spirit at bay.
The universe tried to help me out this year as well. The few times I had to drive somewhere, I felt a mild annoyance that my two favorite radio stations are all Christmas music, and have been for a couple of weeks. My parents even sent me my Christmas presents early, perhaps to make up for their having to cancel plans to visit us for Christmas. I got some nice sweaters and a digital camera I’ve been wanting. But still I felt nothing in the spirit.
So when the date of our annual Holiday Open House was drawing near, I saw it as work instead of the usual joy. Menu planning, shopping, picking out candles, trying to get some of the dust off the woodwork. But the tree, second attempt, turned out beautifully. The party preparations went according to plan, and as Saturday (party day) wore on, I found myself less harried than usual.
When the food was put out, the candles lit, the tree plugged in, holiday music started, I thought, “Oh, this all looks nice. My entertaining skills are improving.” Still, no real joy.
About 10 minutes before the first guests were to arrive, I looked out the window and saw it was snowing. A wet snow, not hard, not sticking to more than grass and parked cars, and that only a small dusting, but still it seemed it was snowing just for my holiday party. And the guests arrived, a good mix of people bearing wine and candies. They circulated with each other, we had great conversation. Everyone complimented the tree and the food. The punch bowl was steadily emptied, but not too quickly. No one got too drunk. Everyone stayed just the right amount of time.
As I was laughing, talking, gossiping, drinking punch, I failed to notice that I was starting to feel festive, and starting to enjoy myself, starting to be glad it was the holiday season. The joy spilled over to the clean up, which seemed so much less work than the preparation.
Today, Sunday, I watched three holiday movies on television. A Christmas Carol, the 1938 version with Reginald Owen, my favorite. It was free “on demand.” Then I watched the last half hour of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory on AMC (Gene Wilder version), a movie called Prancer on AMC, and the 1984 George C. Scott A Christmas Carol. The spirit of Christmas Present is here. I’m ready to get out my favorite holiday DVDs, and maybe buy some eggnog.