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<\/h2>\nRecently Ian and I had The Talk; “When does Christmas begin?” He is of the November first persuasion, and I am of the after Thanksgiving persuasion, so I am guessing our little family will start getting into the Christmas mood somewhere in the middle of the month of November. I don’t mind a little tinsel with my turkey, so long as I can still have the fun of filling my Thanksgiving table with foraged leaves and berries in all the shades of brown and gold and red. And I certainly don’t mind filling my soul with Christmas music the minute October closes the door behind itself.<\/p>\n
Working in ministry means my Christmas starts early anyway, since it takes time to learn three hundred Christmas songs and buy sparkly black outfits and figure out where to stand backstage so you don’t bump into the harp or the dancers. The whole season is consumed with rehearsals and dropbox links to new songs. It is particularly so this year, since Ian and I are memorizing two Christmas programs – one for the Spanish congregation, and another for the English one. God bless our voices and our memories, please.<\/p>\n
Living in New York City adds another dimension to Christmas, since nowhere does Christmas quite like a big city. The merriment begins early, the streets are a crush of people, tourists pour into town, and the department stores and fancy houses absolutely deck themselves in lights for all to admire.<\/p>\n
I didn’t grow up really celebrating Christmas, so I’ve come into the holiday as a whole adult, looking to form my own traditions, and I have found that I have three distinct Christmas moods. Although the sacred one is obviously the most important, I can’t possibly pick a favorite, and I want a little of each every December.<\/p>\n
<\/h2>\nRecords playing scratchy Dean Martin and Bing Crosby songs as you pad about your house in your red knit socks, baking gingerbread. Eating the warm gingerbread with whipped cream while curled up, rewatching <\/em>White Christmas for the umpteenth time…<\/em><\/p>\n Large, warm, colored bulbs twinkling on the tinsel-covered tree, and mismatched, kitschy ornaments placed with joyous abandon over it all. Spicy wassail wafting through the air, brown paper packages holding handmade presents, sledding and knitted mittens and roasted goose with sage stuffing…<\/em><\/p>\n Parties with friends – the bed in the darkened bedroom piled high with damp coats and scarves and hats smelling like snow, while the lights and laughter and delicious smells spill out from the crowded living room and kitchen. Toasts to family and friends, and excited children milling about with flushed cheeks, learning to pull taffy…<\/em><\/p>\n Handel’s Messiah, robed choirs singing ancient carols accompanied by haunting violins, standing up for the <\/em>Hallelujah Chorus and celebrating Jesus’ birth in solemn gladness…<\/em><\/p>\n Starlit skies shining down on hushed, snowy forests as strains of songs float out from little country churches. Wee kids bumbling around stages in camel costumes and angel wings, as they play charming nativity scenes…<\/em><\/p>\n Rereading Father Tim’s adventures in the Mitford series and attending candlelit Christmas Eve services, where the congregants belt out <\/em>Oh Come, All Ye Faithful in a joyous, off-key chorus…<\/em><\/p>\n Putting on our own Christmas production and inviting the masses, the tired, the poor, and those yearning to breathe free, to hear the good news of Christmas. Dance and song and golden light spilling into the room as we sing, <\/em>King of glory, we worship you, we bow before Your throne. You are holy and beautiful, we’ve come to worship You…<\/p>\n Reading the beginning of each Gospel and studying the story of Christ’s birth. Reading advent poetry and leaning into the waiting and yearning with <\/em>O Come, O Come, Emmanuel, only to culminate in joyous celebration on Christmas morning, because the Messiah has come…<\/em><\/p>\n Larger than life Christmas, with skyscrapers decked out in dazzling light displays, and gleaming marble lobbies scented with pine and cinnamon and playing Mariah Carey. Eggnog lattes and luscious fur and sequins and the sparkling Rockefeller tree overlooking the ice skaters. <\/em><\/p>\n Shiny, crisp boxes tied with glossy ribbons, holding decadent perfumes and sleek leather bags. Curated, glossy trees, sparkling in gold and red symphonies of perfection. Silk dresses and silver heels and parties in high-rise apartments, with magnificent views of the city lights…<\/em><\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.stripedpineapple.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/11\/pexels-burkaycanatar-4346869-scaled.jpg?resize=640%2C427\")
<\/p>\nTwo: Sacred<\/h2>\n
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<\/p>\nThree: Glam<\/h2>\n