by Mary Rice

Created on: December 02, 2009   Last Updated: December 05, 2009

When I was a little girl, Christmas wasn't mentioned until Thanksgiving Day, at the end of the Macy's parade. That day heralded in a time of building excitement and hope. From that day on, until Christmas morning there would be rooms that I would no longer be allowed in, a new wonder to the view from my bedroom window, where I could see, sparkling through the trees, Christmas lights on the houses around us. It was a time of magic.

Today, we see Christmas displays popping up right after Halloween (another holiday that's fallen by the wayside, sadly). It seems that from the beginning of November we have Christmas shoved in our faces by desperate seeming retailers. All in a quest for the almighty profit. There is no profit in wonder and magic after all. Those precious things, intangible as they are, have also vanished under the onslaught of the retailers need to make Christmas a more profitable season. Yet, sales each year seem to drop.

I personally try and keep the wonder of Christmas intact as best I can in these consumer-greedy times. I will not allow any Christmas movie to be watched before Thanksgiving. Nor will I suffer Christmas songs. From the day after Thanksgiving until Christmas morning, my room is off limits, period! Christmas Eve still involves family gathering and leaving milk and cookies for Santa. Yes, even though my daughter is 15, we still do that. Oh she knows the truth, but it's the magic of the season. There was a year, not too far back that illustrates the magic.

As usual, we'd put out milk and cookies for Santa and she'd gone off to bed. I'd waited until I was certain she was asleep before I set about my tasks along with my son, who was old enough to be of help. The two of us nibbled on cookies and laughed in delight at just having fun wrapping gifts and stuffing stockings. All was in readiness and so we headed to bed. My son, in a rare moment of tidiness, absently took the plate that had held the cookies and put it in the sink. Christmas morning my daughter emerged and went to look at her gifts and to check the plate. Her startled comment had me choking back a gasping laugh.

"Santa stole the cookie plate!"

We talked fast and convinced her that he must have been running a bit late this year, then directed her attention to her stocking. Whew, covered. The next Christmas, he thoughtfully brought the plate back! My daughter still shares that story with people, and yes, Virginia, she still believes in the magic of Christmas. How many retailers can say that, I wonder?

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