At Christmas the simple joys of family, friends and food work best There is so much fun and satisfaction to be had from giving presents away
ATTENDING my children’s annual Christmas school concert at the local church on the hill on Thursday brought home the magic of this, the season of goodwill. Following weeks of planning and shopping, it was a treat to be able to sit down and see The Little Fella and the Whirlwind Wonder and all their classmates performing songs familiar to me from my childhood; many of which I would have sung on a stage in Listowel in my old school-going days.
That 40 minutes of music and entertainment definitely lifted the spirits and was but one of hundreds of similar events taking place across Wicklow and Wexford in the days leading up to Christmas.
Many people say Christmas is only for children (and based on the look of my two’s faces every morning as they discover what the Elf on the Shelf has been up to, there’s no denying that they get it and enjoy it the most), but for many of us adults it is a time of year that comes with enormous expectation.
We all want to have that perfect Christmas. We’re bombarded with TV shows about how to cook the perfect dinner, with festive music on the streets of the towns where we shop, with hastily scrawled words on the pages of endless to-do lists in our hands.
In America, where most of my family live, Thanksgiving is a festival which brings families together to celebrate all they have to be grateful for. Christmas weaves a similar magic as we write cards to our aunts and aunties, many of whom we have probably not taken enough time to visit during the year.
We buy gifts for people who have a really positive impact on us and our children.
These are small gestures but they matter. We’re all so busy these days that we can get caught up in the little stuff; those small things that play on the mind and drive us nuts. At Christmas, when we are fortunate enough to enjoy the fruits of our years’ labours by pigging out on a huge meal and sitting in front of the fire in our homes watching an old Christmas classic in the company of family and friends, we’re more inclined to let go of the petty arguments and obsessions and just be.
Of course there are many people who are not so fortunate. I know of one man who only has one person call to his door every Christmas and for him that one visit means the world, because even though he is pushing on in years, he still has that sense that Christmas is a special time of the year, one to be spent in the company of others.
For many women and children, Christmas can be a terrifying time of year. One need only look at the waiting lists for women’s refuge centres across our country and how busy gardaí are dealing with domestic issues, often between couples and here’s hoping 2020 can be a better year for them.
As for me, I can’t wait to be reunited with my family who are travelling from Upstate New York to attend a wedding here on New Year’s Eve. What’s rare is wonderful and getting the chance to spend some of Christmas and to celebrate the ringing in of a new year with them is something special indeed.
Wishing my readers here a Merry Christmas and a humdinger of a 2020.
OU are looking very pleased with yourself, Medders.’ That’s my Hermione, ever as perceptive as she is beautiful. She found me sprawled, happy as a pig in the mucky recess of a well warmed sty, amidst a litter of festive wrapping paper, sellotape and parcels. ‘I just happen to think this is going rather well, lambkins,’ I purred. ‘Christmas is such a thoroughly enjoyable time of year.’
‘And so it is. But I was just wondering why the creepily smug expression on your face.’
‘I just feel that this Christmas we are striking the right note with the presents we are sending, darling. Here, have a look at the list.’ Never one for the cheap remark, she resisted the temptation to say anything about checking the list twice, but she did make a serious effort to check it the once.
‘The Cousins – a corkscrew,’ she read out loud.
‘A super one, lovesome. No cork can resist its pulling power.’ ‘You clearly had not heard that The Cousins have declared themselves teetotal and taken up yoga. They will never take your cork-screw out of the box.
‘The Uncles – a hamper of gourmet cheeses. Very appropriate. Uncle Tom’s cholesterol is already through the roof. Uncle Dick is on a dairy free diet since he had the gallstones. And Uncle Harry only eats Calvita, which is no one’s idea of gourmet.’
‘Okay! We’ll give The Cousins the cheese and let The Uncles have the cork-screw. I’ll switch the labels. You keep reading ...’ Leo Varadkar – a hod.
You know, one of those yokes for humping bricks around the place. Let it serve as a reminder to our Taoiseach that the country is in the middle of a housing crisis. He can plonk it on the Cabinet table to stimulate his ministers into coming up with ideas of how to deal the issue. With an election in the offing, Leo could soon find himself thrown out of Leinster House and in search of alternative employment. Surely he is young enough to take up the hod in earnest and get a job on a construction site if necessary. Katie Taylor – a pair of braces.
The Bray boxer picks up world championships much in the way that mere mortals pick up tins of sardines in the supermarket. But have you seen the belts which go with each new title? They may be great for the ringside photo opportunities in the postfight euphoria but as a practical way of actually keeping up the champ’s trousers they are complete non-starters. Too heavy. Too big. Too ornate. Old-style braces are so much more comfortable. Lisa Chambers – a duffel coat.
Now the Fianna Fail TD really could do with some cheering up. All that adverse publicity about voting for colleagues in the Dáil cannot have been good for Lisa’s morale. So, I thought something sleek and fashionable would be just the tonic - as long as it meets the criteria. A woolly hat perhaps. Or a zippy maybe. Or how about a scarf ? In the end, the choice was a duffel coat with a splendid set of toggle fasteners. Lisa needs to stay away from buttons just at the moment.
Boris Johnson – a globe.
The British prime minister could do worse than keep the globe on his desk in Downing Street and give it an occasional twirl as he thinks his great thoughts of getting Brexit done. And when he looks at the earth revolving beneath his fingertips, he may notice something. He will see that his UK is very close indeed to the EU, while a whole ocean removed from the USA. Geography dictates that he needs Europe more than he needs America. Just a thought.
The people of Oylegate – ear plugs.
This was the most difficult prezzie of all to dream up and I am not convinced that I have hit on the right idea for folk who could use a dollop Christmas cheer. Their Co. Wexford village is notable for one thing: on the entire run of EuroRoute One from the ferry port at Rosslare to the city of Belfast, there is just one set of traffic lights. Yes, the lights are in the middle of Oylegate. All traffic heading north and south is funnelled into Oylegate. It is a recipe for constant traffic jams. The plugs may come in handy.