Where are you Christmas?
Why can’t I find you?
Why have you gone away?
Where is the laughter, you used to bring me
Why can’t I hear music play?
My world is changing, and rearranging
Does that mean Christmas changes too?
~ Faith Hill
We are ever so good at giving them the dolly-in-the-corner. We give them all the trimmings, all the glitz, all the beauty. The ship is glistening in golds and greens and silvers. It looks like a fairy-land, and it’s not even finished yet. Next cruise, tired fingers will dig to the back of closets and pull out long unused santa hats, we will paint on bright-red lipstick and gleaming white smiles and we will give them the Christmas they want, or at least the one they expect. But it won’t be real…we give them everything they want, but I don’t think we give them a single thing that they need.
And they treat it like another excuse to party; to throw away the need to think. To revel in the superficiality of it all.
No one seems to think that it’s important.
It is ever so very important. If you would just take the time to remember. If you would just take the time to care.
This evening we had the first rehearsal for the Christmas concert, if you can really call a handful of tired cast members and musicians gathered around a piano a rehearsal. But I went – of course I went – and I stood there with the rest of them, and I heard something in my voice. In the high sailing chorus of Silent Night – that I haven’t heard since I was little. I somehow heard home. I heard my mother’s voice under mine, from when I was just small, and my voice was so much higher well…littler…than hers; and I could hear the love there. That crystal clear perfect sound that may not always have perfect pitch but somehow always seems like it does, because it’s in tune with itself. In harmony with itself. Because it is harmony. Emotional stillness. And for some reason that I still can’t explain, when that song finished, I was standing there fighting back tears…
Because I wish we could give them what mattered. I wish we could make them see it.
We are so terribly caught up these days, we are so cutting edge and so high tech, we are so ahead of the game and ahead of ourselves that…we seem to completely miss what it’s really all supposed to be about. It’s not about religion, it’s not about presents, it’s about…love. About hope, and faith and actually giving something back to the world. It’s about looking after each other and out for each other…it’s about opening your eyes and actually seeing not just how beautiful the world is, but how distinctly un-beautiful it is at risk of becoming, and doing something about htat.
It’s the one time of the year when we give ourselves the permission to be kind that we really shouldn’t need, because we should be like that all year. Every day.
And perhaps that’s why my heart broke a little when I heard one guest this evening – having lifted the lid off of one of the display boxes under the Christmas trees in the atrium – say, only half-joking that “the boxes are empty, no presents this year”.
No presents…
No dolly in the corner.
But…but you are here. We are all here. Here, with the chance to actually see each other, and be with each other, and reach out in this terrible time the world is going through. Here, with three meals a day, and people who care about us, even if we don’t always know it. Is that not present enough? Is that not at least worth acknowledging? Do you not realize how few people comparatively have that?
And somehow, that was all tied up in the high crystal note of my suddenly-young feeling voice hitting the top notes of silent night, listening to it echo in the tired stillness of the show-room…suddenly wanting nothing more in the world than to be home. Home with records and fireplaces and over-priced eggnog. Home…where somehow it feels that the concept of what it’s all supposed to be about doesn’t feel quite so lost…
I know I will find it. I know it will come. It always does. Without tags. Without packages. Boxes. Or bags.
But right now…just at this moment…this sugarplum fairy feels a little bit lost at sea…
And is still, silently, very much missing her oranges…
-hugs you, crying-