Christmas is a time when the music, the movies, the lights and the tinsel stir our memories. We find ourselves suddenly inside a corner of our minds that brings precious moments of long ago back to life. It feels as though we have suddenly and unexplainably been transported back to a time of unadulterated joy. 

I’ve certainly been enjoying the sudden flashbacks that have greeted me this season. I was watching A Charlie Brown Christmas when I thought of how my mother-in-law always called to remind me that the cartoon was going to be aired on television. I’d tune in and sit down to watch the show with my little girls and each year I would shed sentimental tears when Charlie Brown suddenly understood the meaning of Christmas. As I continue to faithfully watch the short feature film every year I find myself wanting to hear my phone ring. I think of how lovely it would be to hear my mother-in-law’s voice one more time. 

My husband, Mike, and I were on one of our date nights this week when we listened to Christmas music as we drove around looking at the seasonal lights that are all around town. Suddenly one of the many versions of The Little Drummer Boy was playing and I found my thoughts vividly returning to my childhood home. I was there with my mother and my two brothers under the lights of our Christmas tree. Mama was teaching us how to sing the song in four part harmony and it was beautiful. The Mormon Tabernacle Choir could not have done a better job.

We circled around Houston seeing some extravagant displays of light, but it was on a street with tiny homes much like my grandmother’s that I felt the spirit of Christmas filling my heart. They reminded me of Christmas Eve visits to Grandma’s home which was located in east Houston just off of Navigation Avenue. Her tiny house and those of her neighbors would be festooned with multi-colored lights that seemed to announce a welcome to the love and joy that waited for us inside. I knew that my grandmother’s gas space heater would be warming the rooms and that she would already have a big enamel pot of coffee ready to serve to us. 

I always think of the special people in my life who have left this earth. A drive through he downtown area took us past the San Jose Clinic and I immediately thought of our uncle, Dr. Efrain Garcia, who worked there helping the indigent of the city with their diseases of the heart. Losing him this year was sorrowful for all of the world. A great and generous man was lost not just to our family but to all of Houston. Somehow things just don’t feel right without him and his beautiful and generous wife, Rosemary, modeling the essence of how we all should live. We feel such an ache when someone we loved is gone for the first time we gather to celebrate the season.

My corner of the world seems to have come back to life this year after the difficult times when Covid kept us isolated from one another. The streets are more festive than ever. The stores and the restaurants and theaters and churches are filled with revellers celebrating the good fortune of seeing another Christmas with family and friends. Dormant yuletide traditions have come back alive in full force. Social media is filled with the happy faces of people once again feeling free to hug and embrace each other, but also to remember those whom we lost during that time for whatever reason. Our emotions are a mixture of joy and remembrance.  

My neighbors have decorated their yards with great care this year. Anyone entering our section of the neighborhood will be greeted with a spectacular show of lights and goodwill. We seem to be a kind of microcosm of what is best about the world. We come from many races, many nations, many backgrounds. What we share is a goodness of heart and a willingness to love each other without judgement. We’ve exchanged little gifts of baked goods and candy and candles. Mostly we have laughed and smiled together and watched to make sure that everyone is safe and comfortable this year. We’ve travelled together in both the good and bad times and our bonds are strong. I can’t imagine that there is a better place to live anywhere than right here on my own street.

There won’t be snow this year. There rarely is in our almost tropical climate. We’ll have some rain but it won’t dampen our spirits. Christmas has a way of reminding us of what is most important. The birth of Jesus brought the world hope and love. Our little traditions keep that spirit alive no matter what our beliefs might be. All is calm and bright on my street this year. My wish is that those in places of war and turmoil will soon find the kind of peace that I enjoy. Merry Christmas to all!