Christmas+Kids=Love
Many Christmases ago, my little brother refused to go to bed on Christmas Eve even after being told that it was time for him to sleep.
"I wanna wait for Santa Claus," he said.
"But he does not want to be seen," I reasoned with the 5-year old, wide-eyed kid.
"But, why?"
"Because that's the rule."
Our family always prepares for a festive Christmas Eve, and that year was no exception. My father, a genius in the kitchen, whipped up dish after dish of typical Batangueño food. Kaldereta, Apritada, Pochero, Morcon etc. But the Noche Buena wasn't the highlight of evening. It was the youngest of the brood who stole the limelight. He had learned several Christmas songs and was singing them gleefully to us. Each time he got stumped... which happened at the beginning of several stanzas, we'd butt in and supply a line or two. Santa Claus is Coming to Town and Rudolf the Red Nose Reindeer were the best. The adults sang along the lines of the ever popular "you better watch out, you better not pout" and the recital of reindeer names in the lovely ode to Rudolf. Indeed, with the youthful enthusiasm and anticipation by the little boy with the infectious laugh, the teens and the adults were somehow reintroduced to the magic of Santa Claus and the childlike excitement of the holiday season.
And so every Christmas Eve, while our mother tries desperately to send kid brother to bed, Santa aka our father arranges the gifts and carefully counterchecks the "list" tucked in the branches of the Christmas tree. At midnight we’d all gather at the dining table, but not before we check under the Christmas tree for gifts with our names and our Christmas socks for goodies and money.
That year, my brother had made his Christmas list by himself for the first time. He didn't want us to read it. And our mother sternly warned my sister and me to not, under any circumstances, sneak behind and take a peek at our little brother's precious list. But of course we looked, the minute we got a chance. And the joke was on us, because the list was an enumeration of stuff he wanted which we already knew about. Toy trucks (he even wrote the brand), video tapes, computer games, hot wheels, etc. The surprising part, other than that he didn't misspell anything, was that the list was relatively short. Our brother, even back then, was already showing the trait that he would display unto adulthood, he's not materialistic. And that's the irony considering how "materials", "stuff", "gifts" take over people’s lives during Christmas season.
There's something stressful and comforting about Christmas rituals. Stressful because there's a certain expectation to do things that people are supposed to do during this time of year, like decorating, the mad-rush to the stores to shop for the relatives and the godchildren, deciding to attend or not to attend parties, or to accept which particular invitation.
But ah... they are also comforting. There's the familiarity, the soothing feeling of being around family while doing some things that have become an annual practice. There’s the general happy disposition of people everywhere.
They say that as people grow up, it takes away some of the fun out of Christmas, because let's face it, grown ups have problems, grown ups worry over different things. But for my family, Christmas is a family tradition. And so this year, I will embrace Christmas with much vigor. I will welcome it with joy. I will sit down for Noche Buena and not think about anything else but the food before me and the effort that was put in preparing them. I will not take away the surprise by telling my parents and family what I want to get for Christmas. I will sit down and slowly open my gifts. I will savor Christmas just like I did as a young child years ago.
And I might even stay up with my brother and sing Christmas songs with him, as we wait for Santa to show up.
"I wanna wait for Santa Claus," he said.
"But he does not want to be seen," I reasoned with the 5-year old, wide-eyed kid.
"But, why?"
"Because that's the rule."
Our family always prepares for a festive Christmas Eve, and that year was no exception. My father, a genius in the kitchen, whipped up dish after dish of typical Batangueño food. Kaldereta, Apritada, Pochero, Morcon etc. But the Noche Buena wasn't the highlight of evening. It was the youngest of the brood who stole the limelight. He had learned several Christmas songs and was singing them gleefully to us. Each time he got stumped... which happened at the beginning of several stanzas, we'd butt in and supply a line or two. Santa Claus is Coming to Town and Rudolf the Red Nose Reindeer were the best. The adults sang along the lines of the ever popular "you better watch out, you better not pout" and the recital of reindeer names in the lovely ode to Rudolf. Indeed, with the youthful enthusiasm and anticipation by the little boy with the infectious laugh, the teens and the adults were somehow reintroduced to the magic of Santa Claus and the childlike excitement of the holiday season.
And so every Christmas Eve, while our mother tries desperately to send kid brother to bed, Santa aka our father arranges the gifts and carefully counterchecks the "list" tucked in the branches of the Christmas tree. At midnight we’d all gather at the dining table, but not before we check under the Christmas tree for gifts with our names and our Christmas socks for goodies and money.
That year, my brother had made his Christmas list by himself for the first time. He didn't want us to read it. And our mother sternly warned my sister and me to not, under any circumstances, sneak behind and take a peek at our little brother's precious list. But of course we looked, the minute we got a chance. And the joke was on us, because the list was an enumeration of stuff he wanted which we already knew about. Toy trucks (he even wrote the brand), video tapes, computer games, hot wheels, etc. The surprising part, other than that he didn't misspell anything, was that the list was relatively short. Our brother, even back then, was already showing the trait that he would display unto adulthood, he's not materialistic. And that's the irony considering how "materials", "stuff", "gifts" take over people’s lives during Christmas season.
There's something stressful and comforting about Christmas rituals. Stressful because there's a certain expectation to do things that people are supposed to do during this time of year, like decorating, the mad-rush to the stores to shop for the relatives and the godchildren, deciding to attend or not to attend parties, or to accept which particular invitation.
But ah... they are also comforting. There's the familiarity, the soothing feeling of being around family while doing some things that have become an annual practice. There’s the general happy disposition of people everywhere.
They say that as people grow up, it takes away some of the fun out of Christmas, because let's face it, grown ups have problems, grown ups worry over different things. But for my family, Christmas is a family tradition. And so this year, I will embrace Christmas with much vigor. I will welcome it with joy. I will sit down for Noche Buena and not think about anything else but the food before me and the effort that was put in preparing them. I will not take away the surprise by telling my parents and family what I want to get for Christmas. I will sit down and slowly open my gifts. I will savor Christmas just like I did as a young child years ago.
And I might even stay up with my brother and sing Christmas songs with him, as we wait for Santa to show up.
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