Dear Christmas,
You are my absolute favorite time of the year.
Sure, summer break is great. You have months of freedom, no school to worry about, and vacation time. Sand, sun, surf, sunburn. It is, in itself, a wonderful time of year.
But Christmas is magical. There is an element to Christmas that is universal. Whether you're young or old or somewhere in between--whether you believe in Santa or not--Christmas has that same Christmas feeling. Anyone can enjoy Christmas, and almost everyone doesn't have to work on Christmas. During the summer, people have to work or go to summer school. But Christmas day is a day for everyone everywhere to enjoy. They call it the most wonderful time of year for a reason.
As soon as December rolls around, the world lights up. White lights, blue lights, purple and green and red lights. The world at night is completely aglow, full of snow and snowmen both real and fake. There are reindeer and Santas and Nativity scenes and icicles and ornaments. The winter air is sharp and fresh. Inside, trees light the rooms with a warm glow, rendering shadows soft and pliable. Reality takes a break to bask in the glow of the fire.
Christmas, you are a time of infinite possibilities. Anyone can get anything they want. Anything is possible. Wishes are made and granted. The air hums with the voices of millions of children whispering for their hearts' desires. Dreams are created and expanded and distributed beneath pine-scented limbs. A billion smiles widen in the orange-red glow of lit fireplaces.
Families come together. They bicker and argue, but love each other all the more at the end of the day. Friends become family and knit lives together. Love is shared and kindled and fanned into flames to warm even the coldest of hearts through the rest of winter.
Your power, Christmas, is almost limitless. You bring joy and love and peace and comfort and contentment. You are a celebration of life, of fellowship and intimacy. Red and green and gold become the colors of magic and love. You bring people of different religions, and of no religion, together here in America.
As I get older, I find you more precious than before. The presents matter less than the presence of loved ones. Your magic no longer lies in magic itself--it is within each of us, potent in the open possibilities the night of Christmas Eve and the tang of excitement early Christmas morning. Your magic is in the unopened and opened gift. It is in the gifts of quality time and shared memories.
What I'm trying to say, Christmas, is that I await you every year and mourn the loss of you when you're gone. I am glad to have you back for this short time as my heart warms into a blaze with love and hope in the stinging cold.
