Boxing Day

It's December 26th, the day after Christmas.  Boxing Day.  I used to think of this as the saddest day of the year.  All year long I look forward to Christmas, this most beloved of celebrations, so I always get a little depressed when the excitement is over.  After a month of twinkling lights, beautiful music, family get-togethers, presents wrapped in colorful paper, and the deluge of Christmas cards with pictures of children growing up too fast, I dread the return to normality. 

This Christmas was pretty typical.  My own kids are in the "tweener" stage, meaning we don't have to worry about the Santa facade or assembling gifts on Christmas eve.  These days they're into electronics and gift cards.  It's easier, but more expensive. 

The church choir and orchestra concert was lovely.  The Christmas parties were entertaining.  Relatives came over for a feast on Christmas day, exchanging gifts and telling family stories we long to hear every year.

What was different was the Christmas spirit in the air.  I promised myself I would try to get into the spirit earlier, celebrating each moment rather than trying to hold off until the final week before Christmas.  I played Christmas music on the radio every day.  I decorated the house as soon as Thanksgiving was over.  I decided to bring the Christmas spirit to life, showing kindness to others and giving thanks for my blessings every day.

What I didn't count on was a couple of Scrooges being jerks to my family members.  First there was a neighborhood boy and former football teammate of my son's.  I've always questioned this kid's friendship.  He's rude and physically rough.  But two days before Christmas, he went too far, pushing my son and cursing up a blue streak over a football being mistakenly thrown over the fence.  No more Mrs. Nice Guy for me.  If that kid ever comes over again asking for my son, he'll get a piece of my mind.  His behavior is appalling and is a sign of a potentially violent young man.  No thank you.  Get some help, young man.

Then on Christmas eve, of all times, a man was unbelievably rude to my husband.  It was a cold and rainy night, and Richard was taking his mother home from the candlelight church service.  Our daughter was in the backseat of the car.  Richard was helping his elderly and disabled mom out of the car in the port au cachere of her senior adult complex.  Suddenly the motorist behind him told him to hurry up, told Richard not to hit his car with mom's walker, and added a vulgar insult that rhymes with "class goal."

It was Christmas eve, for goodness sake.  In a process that took all of three minutes, no longer that waiting for a traffic light to change at a major intersection, this moron couldn't wait to shove a poor elderly lady out of the car.  He exclaimed that there were three cars waiting behind him.  And your point is?  You can't give a 75 year old crippled person a couple of extra minutes to get her footing and get inside her building safely?  EXCUSE ME????

I guess some people haven't been shown enough of Christ's spirit lately.  And I need to show more of it even when it's not Christmas.  The boy who treats my son so badly doesn't know where his father is.  His mother dumps him on her parents' doorstep every weekend so she can do her own thing.  He clearly doesn't have any appropriate role models, and we need to be the salt and light in his life.  I understand that now.

And the impatient man in the car behind Richard?  I only hope he'll learn to wait for people who are less able bodied than him.  The country will be overrun with us in a few years, so you'd better get used to it now, brother.  It's going to come back to bite you soon,  I guarantee it. 

Maybe we all need a little Christmas spirit all year long.  Thats's what I hate about the day after Christmas --  I hate losing this idea, this focus on the good in people.  Now more than ever, we  need to keep the lights burning a little longer.