Christmas magic

When you’ve worked retail for nearly your entire life, it could be really easy to become cynical about Christmas. Every November or so the baking aisle gets busy, the same rotation of five songs starts playing, and as the days go on it seems like people’s patience gets shorter and shorter.

I’ve fought very hard to keep cynicism at bay. I have always loved Christmas and refuse to let my increasing age and growing identity as a bit of a curmudgeon seep into what has always been my favorite holiday. Each year it gets a little harder, but I’ve found that when the ghost of Ebeneezer Scrooge comes scratching at the door, I can always look to my kids to run him off. After a long day of hunting down items for folks, there’s nothing that will bring your blood pressure down like a ten year old laughing hysterically at Joe Pesci getting whacked in the face with a paint can. When your head is throbbing from ten hours of fluorescent lighting, few things will bring relief like the dim light of a Christmas tree covered in souvenirs from family trips and handmade crafts.

This week we went to Moulton, as we do every year, to see the Christmas trees around the square and it was a great reminder of how magical this time of year really is.

For a few minutes the kids run like wild animals from tree to tree thrilled to see familiar characters, dancing to the songs over the loud speaker, and begging for their picture to be taken next to their favorite decoration.

In those moments the stress of adulthood and frustrations of professional responsibilities seem to vanish and we’re all little kids for a few minutes. The bills will still need to be paid, but for a minute I remember what it was like to be that age at Christmas time.

And that’s just enough magic to get me through. A child’s laughter, a bunch of trees, and a familiar song on the radio is the oasis in the desert that an adult needs to keep that little child alive inside.