As I was growing up, there was always one question I would ask my parents towards the end of the year -‘What will I get for Christmas?’
Burning with anticipation, I start counting down from late November until Christmas Eve. My mother always kept us in suspense by hiding the Christmas surprises till what she considered ‘the right time.’
Gradually, I started outgrowing this Christmas excitement. I began questioning the meaning of Christmas. I really wanted to ask my parents but couldn’t lest they thought I was ignorant.
So, I asked my friends who gave different opinions but some were not sure, just like me. It was frustrating when I asked a teacher who presented a jumbled explanation and in conclusion said that “So many people have numerous perceptions about Christmas, you can have your own.”
Though I got tired of searching for the real meaning of Christmas I didn’t given up. I just recalled how my parents celebrated Christmas with a passion I did not really understand.
My mom always told me never to do anything without completely understanding and acknowledging its importance. I finally decided to ask my mum on Christmas day.
I thought seriously about the topic and I was sure that if her explanation convinced me, it would be the ultimate Christmas gift. So I asked.
“People rarely admit that they don’t understand the meaning of Christmas. It is simple. We are remembering the day Christ was born. Thanks for asking son,” she firmly reassured me.
Her confidence is what convinced me about the true meaning of Christmas.
Then I got the shock of my life when I did not get a double share of presents. I thought my mum would favour me because I had asked her for the true reason for the season. Then I realised that the eagerness I had before my birthdays is exactly that same as all Christmas.
Hmmm…Now I am beginning to think that I am addicted to gifts.