As a child, I found nothing strange about the fact that, despite our being Jewish, we had a huge tree, hung with lots of sparkly decorations, with a panoply of presents underneath. We were Americans. We loved Christmas. So did everyone else.
Children adore getting an envelope addressed to them. Because they watch their parents open packages and cards, mail for them seems to be an exclusively adult event. That is, until they hear the magic words, “Hey Leo, you have a card in the mail from Roe!”
Today, in an effort to avoid the mass consumerism that has overtaken the holiday, I still bake, only now it’s biscotti for friends. While this twice-baked delight is a great deal of work, the smells that permeate the house let us know that the holiday is near. Paired with a special bag of coffee, which I purchase on sale, the biscotti make a special gift for the postal person, the propane-delivery man, and the secretaries at the college where I teach.
Rather than piling lots of stuff under the tree, our family now focuses on fewer, more meaningful gifts. This ‘less-is-more’ approach has not only kept me out of the mall, but has also reduced my family’s holiday waste.
When I was a child, the magic of Christmas was making and giving handmade gifts. I started in September and carefully made every gift that I gave. I am returning to my childhood tradition this year and I am making something for each member of my wonderful little family.