I adore Christmas. I just can’t help but be happy in December. And it doesn’t really matter if I get everything done that I hope to get done. It is just hard for me not keep humming carols to myself, especially the traditional ones like “ “Oh Holy Night”, “Lully Lullay”, and “The First Noel”.
Most of all I love wrapping gifts. I love paper and ribbon and tinsel and little bits of decorations lovingly wrapped around packages. I know that the packaging itself really isn’t that important, but I can’t help myself. Even the most simple gift gets wrapped in glorious paper and is surrounded with yards of ribbons tied up into extravagant bows.
Then, on Christmas morning I am the first one up staring at the tree, eagerly awaiting the time when the others arise, and all those packages are opened and the wrapping ripped to shreds. I can’t explain it. I love wrapping packages. I love watching other people open their packages more than I enjoy opening my own. I love Christmas and the idea that for one day at least the idea of “peace on earth, good will to men” might actually be true.
Pretty packages and peace. Sounds good to me.