Where Christmas Is Always White
by Liz Flaherty
Christmas is coming,
sometime, and I'll start watching the movies any day now. You
know the ones I mean: It's A Wonderful Life, Miracle on 34th St.,
Bells of St. Mary's- just to name a few. I sing with Bing Crosby--though
most everyone around wishes I wouldn't-and rejoice right along
with Jimmy Stewart when he finds Zuzu's petals in his pocket.
I'm firmly convinced that the man who played Santa Claus in the
original 34th St. movie really was him and if Ingrid Bergman wasn't
a nun, it's because she missed her calling.
There are, however,
things about these movies that bother me. Did you ever notice
that Christmas is always white, the whole family makes it home,
and no one actually has to cook the gargantuan meal that appears
on the table? Everyone stands around the piano and sings Christmas
carols. In tune. The women come downstairs in the morning with
their hair combed and their makeup on. They obviously have not
stayed up until three AM fitting part B into slot C. The kids
are thrilled with all their gifts and never greet guests with
the immortal words, "What did you bring me?"
Well, I don't know
about you, but my family and our traditions don't measure up to
the movies.
Fact: When children grow up, they don't always make
it home for the holidays. They are too far away, too broke, or
otherwise committed. When they marry, they have spouses to consider
as well as those spouses' families. When they have children of
their own, they sometimes want to--gasp!--stay home on the holidays.
Fact: Christmas isn't always white. Sometimes it's gray and muddy.
Fact: It takes a lot of time and work to prepare a holiday meal
that is up to movie standards. I gave up on it when I discovered
supermarket pumpkin pies were every bit as good as mine and the
crusts were better.
Fact: We don't have a piano, and the only
song the whole family knows all the words to is Rhinestone Cowboy.
Actually, since our family has expanded over recent years, there
aren't any songs we all know the words to.
Fact: I'm not ready
to discuss what I look like on any morning, much less one after
I've stayed up late. Let it suffice to say Donna Reed and Ingrid
Bergman would have nothing to fear from me.
Fact: None of
the kids in our family would make it in the movies.
So there it
is. My family's holidays are never going to live up to the movies'
portrayals. We burn the food sometimes, make God-awful gift choices,
and lose track of the spirit of the days we are celebrating. We
sing out of tune, dance out of step, and forget our lines.
While our scenes probably
wouldn't translate well to the screen, they play just fine at
our house. Because it doesn't matter at all whether we're in tune
as long as we're singing. Whether we're in step as long as our
hearts are in the dance. Whether we remember our lines as long
as we're talking.
I hope you all have
a splendid holiday season, and if anyone needs the words to Rhinestone
Cowboy, give me a holler.
Liz Flaherty's first
book, Always Annie, was a Precious Gems release that garnered
very nice reviews. Her second, Because of Joe, was a 4/03
release from NovelBooks, Inc., and she would appreciate it if
you would consider making it into a bestseller because she'd really
like to give up her day job.
Married for thirty-some
years to Duane, her own personal hero, and mother of three and
grandmother of five, Liz has written a column, Window Over
the Sink, off and on for over ten years. She hopes you enjoy
it. You can email her at flaherty@netusa1.net
or visit her website at http://lizflaherty.romance-central.com
