“Christmas is a time of togetherness.” That quote is what I have always heard when it comes to Christmastime. I don’t disagree with this, but I wonder if there is more to the story.
There are many things about Christmas I love. I love listening to Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You” while hanging stockings and ornaments. I love the smell of candy canes and hot chocolate when I enter the church café. I love setting up our many nativities. I love snuggling with our cat in the sun next to the Christmas tree. I love how hot it is, even though we all wish for snow or rain. I love waking up at 7:00 in the morning because I am just too excited for Christmas, just to find out my brother has been up since 6:00. I love Christmas dearly.
My favorite Christmas memory is the night of Christmas Eve with my Grandpa. It is the first thing I think of when I think of Christmas. We have this lovely Icelandic tradition, jolabokaflod, which means we open all our books on Christmas Eve, and open all the rest of the presents the next morning.
One Christmas Eve, I received a new book called, “The Book with No Pictures.” We had gotten it because all of the Kritzinger kids had read it at a friend’s house and fallen in love. This book is comedy in its purest form. I couldn’t wait for my Grandpa to read it to me. So I sat on his lap and he read, “It might seem like no fun to have someone read you a book with no pictures.” He continued, “It probably seems boring and serious.” Does it sound boring and serious so far? And then he had to read out-loud words like “Blork,” or “bluurf,” or say, “My only friend in the whole wide world is a hippo named Boo Boo Butt.” Naturally, as a six-year-old, I was laughing and wheezing and calling Grandpa “silly.” It was a very special moment to me because I hardly ever get to see Grandpa, since he lives in Alaska.
Holidays are a time when relatives and friends come from all over to be together. But even though we usually think of togetherness at Christmastime, this particular memory is deep in MY heart. I am the one who remembers the warm smoke of our Advent candles, the roughness of Grandpa’s sweater, and the recognizable aroma of a brand new book.
My Christmas memory of sitting on Grandpa’s lap teaches me this: learning about Jesus is something we do together as a congregation, but experiencing the story of Advent is something that happens on your own, in your own time. Yes, the holidays are a time of togetherness, but Christmas is also something to experience for ourselves.
Kiri Kritzinger is a 12-year-old girl who loves writing, singing, drawing, and sports, and she is the youngest (and classiest) of four siblings.