For the most part, it is the kids that have it all at Christmas – the Advent calendar, a trip to see Santa, a stocking full of gifts. But what about us, the adults – do we grow out of the magic?
When I was in early high school, I sang carols at the local hospital on Christmas Eve – an annual tradition we had stuck with for a few years.
One year when it finished, I realised for the first time that the sleepless childlike excitement I usually had for Christmas wasn’t building like it used to.
I felt sad and confused. By the next morning, with presents and chocolate for breakfast, that sadness had dissipated but in hindsight it was probably the moment when the dial shifted, when a small departure from childhood occurred.
At the time I feared I had lost the warm fuzzy feeling of Christmas forever. But now, over a decade later, the joy I feel at the magic of Christmas persists, just in a different way.
As a kid, Christmas is, for the most part, all about Santa. The milk he will drink as he passes through, the reindeer that dash overhead, the letters received at the north pole. While the make-believe magic may leave us when the secret is broken, it is only one part of the season.
Christmas for adults is about that same magic, but much of it is about tradition.
Christmas isn’t Christmas until I’ve put up the tree with my family. Unboxing the decorations is all about the memories they hold. There are the ones I wasn’t allowed to hang because they were too heavy and the branches might snap, or those I made out of paper at school and brought home. There are the decorated eggshells we carried all the way back from Austria, and the fish with big glittery lips that I’m sure is one of a kind.
In our family, a rocky road tree from an old Women’s Weekly cookbook is the centrepiece of the table. It is so much of a tradition, it is almost known as our recipe.
Family food brings us joy – and those recipes so often come out at Christmas time. My grandmother makes mince pies with hand-rolled pastry – one of secrets is baking the pies from frozen – which she taught me from start to finish a few years ago. I’m yet to make a full batch again myself, so onerous is the prep involved.
There is always an afternoon walk, always a movie on Boxing Day, always a real pine tree.
For adults, perhaps it is less about Christmas Day and more about soaking up the season unfolding around us. Wreaths go on doors, fairy lights are strung up wherever they will fit. In Europe, snow falls and night markets buzz, giving you an excuse to eat apple strudel and glühwein for dinner. Enjoying the decorations in the shops, and maybe having a candy cane – it is that feeling that infects us with a childlike joy.
It is true – many of us bemoan Christmas songs that start too early in shopping centres, the mounting list of presents to buy or the decorations that go up the day after Halloween. Not all Christmas trees are as magnificent as the one at the Rockefeller Center, but there is nothing like the glow of a tree in your house, or in a shop window as you pass.
Full disclaimer: I am not a parent. Filling the Advent calendar, finding the Christmas crackers that don’t cost a fortune but have good jokes or hosting the day can make the lead-up stressful. But somewhere, doing all these things does suck you into the magic, until you find yourself singing along to Mariah Carey or unable to turn off the crappy Christmas movie on TV.
Christmas can be hard and isolating for some. Families coming together can clash, and in the past three years, too many have spent Christmas alone. This year, we have conflicts raging on around the globe as we celebrate – pause for thought when you get to hug your loved ones on the day.
High-school me thought that maybe without elves and reindeer, Christmas may never be magical. But even if the fantasy is one step removed, I love the season. You only have to see it to believe it.
