Every year around this time, I can’t help but feel like the third lobster in a nativity play. Really, like someone who is part of the party, just because all kids should be in it and no one should feel left out.
Don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas. The Glühwein, the Christmas markets, the anticipation of presents made for and by loved ones, the annual bonus, people on the street being usually cheerful… All these things make the holiday season special to me.
But somehow, most of those things feel a bit shaky on the sincerity part. The nativity is regarded as a new hope, the return of the Jedis of a sort. And this is perfectly fine. People need this as they do a magic pill to tell them that everything will be alright.
However, everyone forgets that Jesus was born somewhen in the spring-summer timeframe. Christmas was established to hijack a popular pagan fest, and that charity, compassion and giving back is not a deadline to meet.
Sausages and steaks are flipped, glasses of hot wine are downed one after another, all sorts of small and big goods are bought, wrapped and readied to be gifted by the white-bearded man. Presumably.
And just like the third lobster in the nativity play, I duly take part in all of it, so I won’t deviate from the social pattern. I take credit for the cookies my wife bakes or her creativity to turn our place into something really Christmassy. Sometimes. Other than that, my participation could easily remain unnoticed.
Perhaps Christmas should be all year around and keep us all in our best behaviour. Imagine seeing all year round the white-bearded big belly lad dressed in red walking around town. Oh, and giving presents to the young and old.
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