Believe in magic – and hope for better times
EVERY Christmas Eve when the kids were small, I would summon them to the back door just before they went to bed and ask the same thing: “Can you feel it?” The ‘it’ in question was the magic of that special night and the promise of what was to come.
And every year as they squinted into the inky sky they agreed that, yes, they did feel it.
It wasn’t really magic – I’m not that daft – but it was magical; that brief pause in the festive madness, the anticipation by both adults and kids all over the world of what was yet to come.
Of course, for kids Christmas Eve means excitement ahead of that pile of gifts under the tree.
For the grown-ups, it’s the hope and joy of looking forward to seeing family and friends. Of good food and good telly and not worrying about the washing up.
For most, religious or not, the night before Christmas brings the expectation of the day ahead when desires might be fulfilled and the sadness and disappointment of the past year set aside; a moment to pause and reflect before the chaos of sprouts and wrapping paper takes over.
Of course, time moved on, my kids grew up and the magic started to fade. I suspect it’s the same in many households.
As teenagers they rolled their eyes and put their headphones back on when I opened the back door hopefully, sherry in hand.
As young adults they retired to the pub to enjoy a different spirit of Christmas rather than humour me.
Last year, I even forgot to do it with them.
We had friends round, the music was on, someone was dancing. I remembered only when I was in bed and with a sigh I reasoned I wasn’t going to get out from under the duvet now to take a look and see if Santa was abroad.
The magic had faded for me too. It had been a nice tradition but, well, it was over. Except it’s not. Not this year. This year, despite the fact we won’t be all be together on Christmas Eve, the four of us have agreed we’ll do it again. I thought the kids might laugh when I suggested it but they didn’t.
They appreciate, as much as any of us, that it’s been a hell of a year.
A year of loss – of people, jobs, and holidays. A year of disruption and worry with an end to it now only just in sight.
And of course Christmas itself won’t be the same either. Families will remain separated, friends apart, lovers unable to kiss beneath the mistletoe.
Courtesy of shift patterns and Tiers we will be distanced yet somehow, courtesy of that daft Christmas Eve tradition, we’ll try to be together as we separately stare up at the night sky and search for the magic again.
The neighbours might think I’m crackers but who cares?
Because if there was ever a Christmas when we all needed to believe in a little magic – and in the hope of better things to come – it’s this one.
Have a lovely festive season and I’ll see you again in the New Year.