Once again, Christmas is upon us. When I was a boy I eagerly anticipated the approach of Christmas. By Christmas eve all the presents were under the tree. On Christmas morning, my brother or I would be appointed to distribute the gifts, and what had taken so long to carefully wrap would be ripped open all too quickly.
One of the first gifts I remember getting was a bicycle. I don’t recall my age but I was very young … maybe 6, maybe 8. My dad took me to an empty racetrack where I could learn to ride it. I recall the ground was sandy and it was difficult to pedal the bike on it.
Another memorable gift was a microscope set. I used it so much that my parents ended up giving me three of them – each more advanced than the previous. I spent many hours peering into invisible worlds such as you find in a drop of pond water.
Of course I grew up, and then I found myself in the position of racking my brain to figure out meaningful gifts for family members, and trying to wrap them nicely and still having them look like I wrapped them using my feet. But having family together at Christmas was nice; there were good times.
But now, Christmas is just another day of the week. I look out the window and see a cold and gray day. Nothing is special, nothing is different from any other day. And that is okay. Growing older is a process of giving up things. The last thing you give up is life itself, but before that happens you get lots of practice at giving up things. As Ecclesiastes says: “To everything there is a season … A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away…”
Merry Christmas, y’all.
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