California Christmas is a mess of warm colors spilled all over the yards and streets, floating in rainy day puddles.
I can never decide how much of the glorious holiday chaos to revel in; and my conscience often pricks me with guilty glimpses of painted clay babies lying in mangers with a panorama of the pious and holy surrounding them.
How oft' my mind drifts off in pursuit of meaning behind all this magical inspiration that, for about two months, alters the entire face of my world.
Many churches banter and promise gargantuous gratification of this holiday spirit and "once upon a time, in a little town called Bethlehem," is scantly mingled throughout the songs, dances, banqueting and merriment; We all pause for a quick moment of silent reflection before we hustle back to the more enchanting stories of Santa Clause, Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer and The Grinch who once tried to do away with this blessed holiday.
Men outfitted in Santa Suits, ring bells, pass out treats,
and hold children on their laps while photographed by adoring parents and caregivers.
The markets become the most populated places, and credit cards are maxed out. The packages pile higher and higher under the intoxicating scent of beautifully decorated pine trees.
Late at night, tucked under blankets, head and body buzzing with all the activities of the day, I wonder to myself, really~ what am I celebrating? Where does all this enchantment suddenly appear from? Is it born of a Savior, the miracle of a virgin birth? Is it a jolly man that unselfishly lives for and gives to all children of the world? Is the spirit of giving? What is it all about anyway, this nebulous time called Christmas?
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