A Kid’s Christmas Story
When I was a kid, Christmas was celebrated extravagantly. Every house had a lantern and miles of lights. Though we never had a Christmas tree when I was growing up, the Christmas aura was always in the air at home. We would decorate the place and play Christmas songs non-stop on our phonograph. I would hang socks for Santa (even though I knew it was my Mom and Dad) and eagerly open the gifts up, making a point of tearing the wrapper to pieces with gusto.
Even if we spent each Christmas in Cebu and our place had no nearby malls, you could never ignore all the lights on the houses, all the firecrackers going off and all the kids caroling. To me, when I was a kid, Christmas was the happiest time of the year by far. Nothing else compared.
Nowadays, I noticed that Christmas was somewhat subdued. Not every house had lights and lanterns, gone were the ubiquitous decorations I used to see, and firecrackers were obviously not as non-stop as before (though I’m all for banning them altogether, except for huge fireworks). At least carolers were still out and about strutting their stuff (though they eventually annoy us after the nth time they pass by our place).
Maybe because people are too busy with Facebook, their laptops and their phones, and they’re constantly online that some aspect of Christmas got lost behind. Lights weren’t as widespread as before (except for malls and parks) and it seemed the Christmasy feel of the air wasn’t as prevalent as before when I was a kid.
Then it dawned on me that the lights and decorations and the Christmas spirit was there all along. It was just me who changed. In short, I grew up. Gone was the sentimental and romantic childhood in me who saw wonder at every little thing – to the point that all the Christmas celebration amazed me to no end.
Gone was the “kilig” of tearing up presents hoping to find cool toys, gone was the wonderment staring at huge Christmas trees and endless arrays of lights. Gone was the simple pleasure of going caroling and getting a few coins. All the simple pleasures that a child finds amazing was now normal and mundane to me. It was no longer eye-opening and no longer immensely enjoyable. I had grown up. And old.
Somehow tonight, my childhood romanticism in my heart came alive again. The kid in me is smiling gleefully again. Here I am at a friend’s house celebrating Christmas with them (we couldn’t go home for Christmas, sorry Ma and Pa), and Christmas songs are playing.
I remembered how on Christmas we always played these songs at home while the family (Ma, Pa and me) just relaxed and talked). And just like that, my childhood happiness all flooded back into me, and Christmas in all its glory was basking in the air. I was a kid again.
Merry Christmas to all of my friends. I hope your childhood comes back to you so you can experience Christmas like only a child can. There’s nothing like it. Merry Christmas!