A Dickens of a Christmas!

"What!" exclaimed the Ghost [of Christmas Past], "would you so soon put out, with worldly hands, the light I give?"
          ~Charles Dickens (1812-1870), from "A Christmas Carol"

  She had been decorating the house for three days. A Christmas "junkie", there were many decorations to put up, and every year she added a few more things. There were four trees in all, of various sizes. The largest, a 12 foot monster, stood proudly in the living room, bedecked in hand blown glass ornaments that had been collected over the years. It also held other keepsakes-- the painted egg from Poland her father brought her, the hand knit bell her grandmother had made, and other baubles given to her as gifts. A pair of fuschia feathered love birds had graced the tree since she had been married, a gift of her new step daughter.  Then there was the Santa tree in the family room, covered with mostly unbreakable figures of Santa-- she had collected these when her own kids were little, and some were gifts from them. Then there was the little tree in the kitchen that was covered in old cookie cutters and some handmade cinnamon ornaments. And finally there was the Travel Tree in the dining room, covered in ornaments gathered on trips taken with her husband.

The Travel Tree went up quickly, leaving only the table centerpiece to complete. That was always the same-- an advent wreath with four candles in the middle. Three purple and one pink-- the Joy candle. Long ago she had started this tradition... she was carried back to the United Methodist Church of her youth, when she and her family stood in front of the church one Advent Sunday and lit the candles on the Advent wreath. And then she remembered when her own family, including two small sons, stood together at the front of the church of her adulthood and lit another Advent wreath. That was when she decided to add the wreath to the family's traditions... and even now, when she was no longer a church goer and had no children at home, she continued to light the candles on the Advent wreath.

She shook her head and looked around the room... and it struck her how lucky she was to have had a family that had so many traditions. There in her dining room stood Grandma Elsie's hutch. On it was Grandma's crystal wine glasses, and Grandma Ruth's china.  The table was also Ruth's. The old Victorian light fixture was Elsie's. The old high chair in the corner had held 5 generations of her family. The chairs had been sat on by six generations. If she closed her eyes, she could see the hutch in Elsie's dining room, and hear the voices of her grandparents, her parents, her aunts and uncles, sibling and cousins, all laughing and sharing the holiday together. She could see it in her  own home, with her own children, their father and his family, gathered around it on Christmas Eve.

It struck her that most of this was gone... the people were gone from her life by death or divorce, and that the Christmas traditions of her past sometimes clashed with the reality of her present.  How odd it seemed that in the past life had been very difficult but Christmas had been so sweet-- almost a respit from the storm. Life in the present was wonderful-- so sweet in comparison. But Christmas sometimes was difficult. Her life and upbringing had been so full of tradition. The absence of some of that tradition was uncomfortable at times.

Then it occurred to her that just as Scrooge had clung to his old notions of Bah Humbug, and had needed to change, she too needed to change her thinking. She didn't need to hold on too tightly to Christmas Past-- she could remember it and cherish the memories-- and still move into the present and new experiences and traditions would come her way.  As she put the finishing touches on the table centerpiece she smiled. It was okay to keep the Advent wreath, but maybe next year she could try something a little different for the table?

I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach.
          ~Charles Dickens (1812-1870), from "A Christmas Carol"