I remember a friend from Israel I met in the ‘70s who told me that Jews who lived in ancient Judea had a celebration similar to Christmas. They called it “Hanukkah,” a festival that marked the Jews’ devotion to Judaism.
Jews went to the synagogue, their center of worship that they utilize for congregations and community meetings. Thus, the short poem that goes: “Roses are reddish; Violets are bluish. If it weren’t for Christmas, we’d all be Jewish.”
However, it came to be called “Christmas” by Christians who believed that Christ is the Savior. Christians, whether Catholics, Protestants, Baptists, Anglicans, or whatever denomination, attended evening masses in buildings called churches.
Others called it the Yuletide, Noel or Weinachten, while on the side of non-believers, they did not think so much of Christmas as a special season. But they attended parties every night to get drunk. Forgive me, but I admit that I had an inebriated life in college.
For children yesterday, today, and tomorrow, Christmas and love will always be measured by the pasalubong and gifts, too young to find out that peace could be the best gift that Christmas brings.
Christmas is cutting down a four-feet high pine tree that kids love to decorate with “snow” soap suds, similar to the Baguio “snow” featured on Session Road years ago. It could also be a lazy walk in town, looking for familiar faces that you last saw before the COVID years.
I remember Christmas as a young boy still out of school, having to go to the CR on a very cold night. And so to avoid that, I stand on a chair, open the window and pee on grandma’s yellow daisies below. That scene comes back to me every Christmas.
Christmas is when children want to find out who Santa Claus is, what they want from him and touch the bushy white beard, if it is real. Only to find out later when they have grown that Santa is no other than the happy dad or lolo who is concerned about where his boys and girls are.
And yes, Christmas is people cursing TV commercials called “special offers,” that attempt to fleece more money from innocent customers. But Christmas celebrations do not have to be luxurious. They could be simple things such as inexpensive bonfires with the family. By the way, I heard friends say “get drunk on Christmas Eve and go to sleep.” That’s it.
We were always told that everyday is Christmas day. So we might as well have Christmas a little at a time, all throughout the year. But the malls and public markets were unusually crowded with folks rushing to buy noche buena ingredients. The main roads were jampacked, too. It looked like we lumped our schedules in just a day, as if tomorrow would never come.
I have always thought of Christmas as the season for singing one’s favorite songs, whether these were Christmas songs, traditional Hank Williams country-western, Bob Dylan, Sting and Tom Waits poetic songs or Gordon Lightfoot folk ballads.
Christmas has always been that way for 15 years, commencing from the time I mixed college studies with folk and country music in Baguio’s music bars called folkhouses until I landed in an editorial room of a local newspaper.
All over the world, Christmas is gifting, drinking, eating and partying. But avoid that blood sugar spike. Christmas is a worldwide conspiracy of love, a time for charity and kindness, a time for renewing friendship and greeting people you don’t even know.
Christmas is also a pardoning season. That is why the timing is best for the return of Mary Jane Veloso to her homeland and hometown after more than a decade of jail life in Indonesia. Our concerned officials should extend the same Christmas gift of pardon to all other Mary Jane Velosos who are under the same or similar situations.
Enough of Christmas definitions. This line I heard from a good movie: “May Peace be more than a season but a Way of Life.”
Merry Christmas to everyone and more blessings for 2025!
