I don’t think I will ever outgrow the excitement of Christmas. Can’t say it has the same thrill it did when I was 8 years old, but there is still magic that creeps into my soul at this time of year.
Old Saint Nick isn’t the magic. Thoughts of turkey and dressing are nice, but not the spark that warms my imagination. Gifts under the tree don’t capture the feeling of Christmas.
So, what causes me to begin singing Christmas carols as I walk the streets in the middle of the day in San Miguel de Allende?
Is it the memories of family gatherings? Or riding down the sidewalk on my new push scooter (vintage 1950)? Mother’s divinity or Dad’s fudge can conjure up a sweet visual, but that alone doesn’t create the glow this holiday evokes.
I wish I could pinpoint what triggers the Christmas spirit that seems to burst open my rusty vocal cords, making me want to light candles and croon ‘Silent Night’.
I guess it doesn’t matter what brings on the nostalgia of the season, I’m just glad it happens. I’m delighted my heart opens, a surge of excitement electrifies my creative juices, and I smile at children and old folks I might normally overlook.
It’s s unique mood, and who knows what creates it, where it starts and when it will end? Not me. I just revel in the joy I feel as I over eat, and bask in the light of the magical Christmas Spirit.