Has Christmas Lost Its Magic?

By Dorothy Marie Koveal

I would like to know, has Christmas finally lost all of its magic? Before, Christmas was a time for love, and friendship, and miracles. Christmas was beautiful, with or without snow or clear skies. Just the crisp cold mornings when children wake up before the sun grazes the earth just to revive their parents and see if Santa really did make it again this year. It was never about the gifts for me. It was about Santa, the possibility that someone so magical and kind did truly exist. I never cared what was under the wrapping. The one thing that I knew on Christmas day was that all the presents marked "From: Mom and Dad" had been picked out just for me, and wrapped just for me, whatever they were. It reminded me that my parents loved more than i could ever even begin to imagine, and they gave me all they could possibly give purely from their love; I only wanted to give them all i could back. With no money, and no way to buy anything without their help, I was left with myself. Each Christmas I gave my parents all that I was, reformed into pictures, crosstitching, music, food, hugs, and anything else. That was Christmas. That was the time when everyone gave up all that they were to the ones they loved as gifts. "It isn't the gift, it is the thought that counts."

One year, my sister decided to reveal to me the accepted truth about Santa Claus. I rarely believed her because of her habit of lying to me, but this time the mere idea that my magical saviour did not exist festered deep within my heart until the only thing I could think to do was question every child's eternal source of wisdom: my parents. They assured me that there was a Santa Claus, and comforted my troubled mind, yet knew that their words would never pummle the doubt from my mind. That Christmas, as I rushed to the Christmas tree, I did not notice the presents this time. Instead my eyes flickered to the coffee table where an empty plate of cookies and glass of milk stood firmly in the center. After examining the plate and glass, and finally conluding that they were, in fact, authentic, i walked over to the fireplace. This is where my heart jumped! Anyone could have drank a glass of milk, or ate a plate of cookies, but no one but Santa Claus could have done what i saw! Just around the very edges of the wire netting along the hearth was a torn, tattered, soot spotted piece of red felt. But, not just any red felt. This red felt was sprinkled with magic dust and glitter that had spilled from Santa's pocket all over the hearth! I inspected the glitter and felt as I did the cookies and milk, and realized that, though they did have the red felt in their possession, the glitter was entirely unique! It had to be from Santa Claus! There was no other explanation for me, and I wouldn't let go of Christmas so soon.

I ended up burying the red felt with Fuzzy, our first hampster. I believed he needed a little more magic than I did at that point. As the years passed on, my sister and all the people around me began to lose the magic of Christmas and gain greed at the thought of gifts. Christmas became material, not magical. They unknowingly sucked me into their vortex of rush and panic around Christmas time to find "the one you love the perfect gift." Love= Gift. Gift= Money. Money I did not have. So, my parents gave me money to go buy their gifts. As pointless as it seems, that is how it worked. I never gave them any of myself, but only returned what was already theirs to them! With the panic, the love was lost; and with the rush, the care was gone. No love, no care, no magic! Where has Christmas gone? Not to Christ, or to Mass, not to Family, or Friends, or anyone... except the shopping malls. That is where Christmas went, to the shopping malls. They were the only ones that profitted from it, so it had to be there. But, if I gave in to their frenzy of massive gift buying, they would keep Christmas forever and never share its origional purpose! So true Christmas had to be somewhere in my family. True Christmas and Material Christmas are indirectly proportional, you know. As one increases its hold on you, the other dissapates. Focusing on my family was the best choice I ever made for Christmas. The magic is still coming back, and shopping malls are still the domain of Satan, not Santa, for me, but I have a long way to go before my childhood dreams of magical places can return. Watching the movies Labyrinth and Legend help, if anyone else cares to know.

Copyright 2000

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