Christmas has always been my very very favorite time of year. As a little kid, I would sneak off from the family, or get up out of bed in the middle of the night and sit in the dark in the living room, watching the tree blink. To me, that tree was like a fairy or an angel sitting right there in my house. It was magical, I was pretty sure.
And I believed Linus when he told me what the true meaning of Christmas was every year. Oh, yes. Not that part about the little baby Jesus so much as the message that all of us, everywhere, should take advantage of the annual chance to live our lives anew, start over, and try to love humanity once more.
So even though I am a raving atheist, I got zero problem with Christmas. I love it. Every carol, every decoration, every tv special. Okay, not Frosty. But all the others.
So I am perhaps especially sensitive to the charge that us non-God types are trying to ruin Christmas for all the Christians. And this is a charge that I have heard since I was a little girl. Alot. Maybe because I grew up in John Birch Societyland, Indiana.
Anyway, I don't think it's anymore true now than it was then, no matter what Bill O'Fuckface says.
Salon has the story.
Monday, November 21, 2005
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
I used to do the same thing when I was a kid.
Sit in front of the Christmas tree & feel that Christmas spirit, my eyes would get all watery & the tree would take on a magical glow.
Stopped happening as I became an old jaded adult.
I sometimes miss that innocence & magic.
Jaded, schmaded.
I'm sorry. I thought that was his name. That's not his name?
I could have sworn that was his name.
Post a Comment