Christmas Eve
Who knew that such a beautiful, and wonderful, holiday could be so easily dismal? Though the day has been filled with cheer and smiles, and many other things, it has been fake smiles and faded laughter for me. It's hard to have broken a tradition of so many years, and it does hurt, in more ways than I could have even imagined. Who would have thought that I'd grow so attached to the time, every year, that I spend with my family on such a wonderful night? It always seemed like a silly tradition, all it had ever been was a time to gather together with my parents and sister to exchange gifts and be merry. I didn't know that missing it this one year would be hard, let alone painful. A tradition so buried in my heart that not experiencing it has left me as an empty shell today, distracting myself with anything possible, but nothing working the way that it really should. The smiles and laughter, the thoughtful comments, all of it has been automatic and robotic today. How could I show my residents how I truly feel, when I know that their lives have been so much more difficult than mine?
I wish I had their magical ability. The ability to find joy and cheer in the smallest of things, the simple gifts of a giving family, a pizza party that no one really expected, and the simplest of gifts that we could manage to get for them. This year has been amazing for them, because among all the things they could have gotten or had wanted, they remain amazed at the generousity of our organization, and the genourosity of those who have donated to our cause.
And yet, I can't find it possible to take joy in it myself.
One positive note, though.
I met Santa Claus today. Not the big, heavyset, laughing old man that we all have come to know and love, whether we believe or not. This Santa Claus came in the form of a young black woman who was pregnant, wearing pajamas, and a Santa hat. She entered the building cheerfully and announced with her cohorts, "Santa Claus is here! We have presents to hand out to all of you!"
She set down her bag, a giant blue duffel bag type, and opened it up. Out came a stuffed dog, soft as could be, for one woman sitting in a chair, and then came two stuffed teddy bears, for the man sitting by the phone. And several more items, that seemed to belong to children, appeared out of her magical bag and were handed to those nearby. She proclaimed, "Have a Merry Christmas!" and a "Ho ho ho!" as she was whisked out the door by her mysterious helpers.
I wish I had their magical ability. The ability to find joy and cheer in the smallest of things, the simple gifts of a giving family, a pizza party that no one really expected, and the simplest of gifts that we could manage to get for them. This year has been amazing for them, because among all the things they could have gotten or had wanted, they remain amazed at the generousity of our organization, and the genourosity of those who have donated to our cause.
And yet, I can't find it possible to take joy in it myself.
One positive note, though.
I met Santa Claus today. Not the big, heavyset, laughing old man that we all have come to know and love, whether we believe or not. This Santa Claus came in the form of a young black woman who was pregnant, wearing pajamas, and a Santa hat. She entered the building cheerfully and announced with her cohorts, "Santa Claus is here! We have presents to hand out to all of you!"
She set down her bag, a giant blue duffel bag type, and opened it up. Out came a stuffed dog, soft as could be, for one woman sitting in a chair, and then came two stuffed teddy bears, for the man sitting by the phone. And several more items, that seemed to belong to children, appeared out of her magical bag and were handed to those nearby. She proclaimed, "Have a Merry Christmas!" and a "Ho ho ho!" as she was whisked out the door by her mysterious helpers.