9 Reasons Christmas Is Better Than Halloween

It Might Be October, But I’m Already Counting Down The Days Until Christmas For These 9 Reasons

It's the most wonderful time of the year!


Fall is such a great time of year typically. But when the weather cannot make up its mind and hayrides and pumpkin patches close due to rain it is hard to enjoy this time of year. Meanwhile, the Christmas season has so many wonderful things to offer and I am already counting down the days. Here is why the Christmas season is so much better than fall.

1. Peppermint hot chocolate is way better then pumpkin spiced latte.  

Maybe its due to the fact that I am not the biggest fan of college but its really hard to enjoy a hot drink in the fall when somedays mid-October it is still reaching a high of 80 in PA.

2. Two words - Black Friday. 

Everyone knows that Black Friday is the official/unofficial start to the Christmas season. Whether you have a Black Friday shopping tradition like me or you're just excited to be allowed to listen to Christmas music and not be judged it is definitely the day all the fun starts.

3. Consistent weather. 

Although ideal fall weather is perfect, it is typically never ideal. Once you get into December, just about every day is a similar temperature. Even though it may be cold, at least you can wear a sweatshirt in the morning and not die from overheating midafternoon.

4. Present shopping. 

While some people see this as an annoying task, I love to shop for friends and family at Christmas time! It may be a little stressful at first trying to figure out what to get for everyone but once you do it is so fun picking out the perfect gift that you know they'll love. It is a great time to show your loved ones how much you care about them and pay attention to the little things.

5. Crafting! 

I don't know about you but I love crafting and DIY projects. Christmas is the absolute best time to do all of this because who doesn't love a handmade gift. It is even a great time to make cute signs or decorations for all around your house.

6. Christmas light are way better than Jack-O-Lanterns.

Driving around at night is so beautiful at Christmas time. Seeing almost every house decked out in lights is so magical compared to a few scattered Jack-O-Lanterns on front porches that you can barely see from the street.

7. You are out of school. 

After finals are over, most schools let out mid-December so you have so much more time to enjoy the festive season without being overly stressed.

8. The movies and songs are way better. 

Christmas movies and music is some of the best. Most mainstream artists have their own Christmas albums and almost every major TV network is consistently playing Christmas movies. Even though Freeform did 31 days of Halloween I haven't cared to watch one of the movies although when its 25 days of Christmas I check the schedule almost every day so I don't miss my favorite films.

9. The meaning of Christmas. 

Whether you are religious or not, Christmas has such a deeper meaning than all of the presents. If you are celebrating Jesus's Birthday or just all the love surrounding your family, Christmas is always a holiday filled with so much love and happiness and you can't beat that.

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Christmas Eve in Manhattan


The sky delivered a cold, wet Christmas instead of a white one as most people wished. Rain soaked up Brooklyn as I walked out of the door.

This is my third time coming into this city. Everything should be more familiar. I memorized more of the subway system. More restaurants, boutiques, and street names ring a bell in my mind. Yet still, this city seems a completely stranger to me.

First time I came here, I was still wearing shorts and tank-tops. Chairs and benches at Bryant park were loaded with people taking their lunch breaks, and the grass with kids and girls sitting on their yoga mats.

The second time I came here, I told my friend that I could not stand the density of the crowd on Fifth Avenue. It was Columbus Day; the main road was cleared for Italian parade trucks. The crowd flowed sluggishly—but it was moving.

Now, with Christmas’s presence alongside a long and harsh winter, Manhattan made itself a vast change. I put on jacket and boots, but the wind still penetrates my body. Trees are bald, but Christmas decorations fill in the blanks—occupying each street and household are mistletoe and holly rings, Santa and Gnomes, everything red, green and silver with glitter or fairy lights. The spaciousness of Bryant park is replaced by designer shops of the winter market. Fifth Avenue crowd, from time to time, stops moving at all.

I got off the train at Witney Museum. Artsy spots like this one care way less about mundane festivals—Rarely do Christmas-themed decorations pop up in sight. Its winter exhibitions are still set up silently against plain white walls, lighting is still artistically placed for items on display. Pacing among students and artists, I felt for one moment that I stepped out of the society and entered a dimension beyond.

Then I went out of the door and cold breeze brought me back to reality. I was holding a Witney museum flyer in the train when a stranger offered me a seat.

“You just went to Witney, didn’t you?” he said. Starting conversations with strangers is one of the rare exceptions, yet somehow also common occurrences in Manhattan. People in big cities have learned to mind only their own businesses, keeping their heads down while walking on the streets. Sometimes people break this rule for intriguing encounters.

I told him my favorite floors in the museum and he made his comments. Then, before he got off the subway, he tapped his hat and wished me merry Christmas and a happy New Year.

I decided to walk up to Metropolitan Museum along Fifth Avenue, first stopping by Bryant park and the public library. There I received another blessing from a stranger.

“Where’re you from?” A voice appeared somewhere in behind. It took me a second to realize that this question was posed to me.

I hesitated. “I’m from a lot of places” was the only answer I could think of. For now, I am from a small village in southern Massachusetts, but I am originally from afar.

This stranger talked about poetry, environment, and camping in the wild. He bounced around like a child when he started talking about stuff he’s passionate about.

“Merry Christmas, young lady,” he said while promising me that he would send me his poetry.

I stopped by a chocolate shop I fell in love with last time I came to New York. A small apartment near the Empire State Building owned by an old man and his Greek wife, where the delicious scent of handmade chocolates permeates every corner. The apartment was cluttered with kitchen appliances and cocoa beans, but at the small counter, chocolate pieces are exquisitely placed in gift boxes and a glass cabinet.

It was Christmas Eve--he's closing soon. The last tray of his work had just come out of the kitchen. "Wanna try one?" he winked. Each piece of these chocolates costs about 3 dollars, but he did not care. He enjoyed my compliments on the splendid flavors of his creations more than the money I put into his pocket. "Merry Christmas," he said, as he boxed some of his best works for me as a gift. Then he closed his shop. I saw him smiling at his wife as I walked out of the door. It was time for them to enjoy the festival in that

I walked up along the Fifth Avenue. Scattered words bounce into my ears: "Merry Christmas," "and a happy New Year". The crowd is incredibly dense, but it keeps the cold away.

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Christmas Of Remembrance Series: My Last Letter

Christmas time is not about the gifts... It is about something far, far more special.


Dear Reader,

Thank you for your time.

This is a series that I have dedicated to those I have loved and lost. It was merely a thought, then an idea, and now a realized creation. Christmas time… all winter really is a hard time for me. It holds this duality in my life of being both my favorite and also my least favorite and difficult time of year. It has been that way for years now.

In a way, this series aids my closure and healing further, and it allows me to tell my story in a way that, to me, is less scary (one of the many great facets of this platform). It was never my intention to write this in order to reach people, or encourage people, or serve as an inspiration to anyone. This was for me and only me. No one else. But, if these pieces of writing do impact someone, somewhere, or make them feel encouraged or inspired in some way or another, or just simply make them feel, then I hope you have enjoyed them. If I can make someone feel, then I guess I have done my job.

The life of an artist is often an uncertain one. The life of a human is a trying one. But life is a journey, and all journeys have their trials. Their tests. Their triumphs and rewards. And they all have their losses. What matters most is what you make of all of it. What lessons you learn. What changes you make. What life you create for yourself. What art you create because of it all. It can be very, very hard. But it can all be glorious at the same time.

At the heart of this series, my words, there is this deep and valuable belief of mine: Christmas (or the Winter Holiday that you may celebrate) is so much more about presents and cooking and shopping and all that other bullshit… it is about family.

The family that is related by blood. The family that surrounds your heart. Your Mom. Your brother. Your dearest friends. The bonds that make life valuable. Worth living. These bonds are soulful bonds, ones that are far more special than any mere trivial object. So… be with them. Forgive. Forget. Heal. Mend what is broken. Reassemble what has been shattered. And stop worrying so much. Laugh together. Cry together. Heal on another. Heal together. And may your new days be better, brighter, and full of love.

Happy Holidays.


A song for you...

"Sense of Home" — Harrison Storm / YouTube

If you liked this series, I invite you to check out my previous article below…

To My Fellow 孤, The Sons Without Fathers On Father’s Day

As well as this article by a fellow creator…

What You Learn Losing A Parent So Young

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