Christmas is my favorite holiday, Christmas Eve is my favorite night, and the holiday season, to me, is truly the most wonderful time of the year.
When I think of Christmas, what comes most vividly to mind isn’t my most recent Christmases, but the hazy strings of color on my childhood Christmas tree, decorated by my parents and me. I see the enveloping light of The Polar Express in my cozy fourth-grade classroom, projected on the screen by my teacher, and the white elephant gift exchange of stuffed animals and glitter lip gloss at my dance studio, orchestrated by my dance coaches. I remember giggling beside my brother at 6 a.m., tiptoeing to find evidence of Santa’s visit: eaten cookies, presents under the tree, and a handwritten response to my letter.
And for young Rosemary, that was what Christmas meant: anticipation, excitement, festivity, and magic. The same magic revived Frosty the Snowman and filled my stocking at midnight. Christmas was magical, no doubt.
But as I aged, and especially as I entered high school, that inherent Christmas magic began to fade. The time I had previously spent revelling in holiday cheer was newly spent on unit quizzes, essay deadlines, and finals. By the time I finally had enough time to savor the smell of baked goods and holly, Christmas was only six days away.
I’m now at the starting line of that six-day countdown, and I’m afraid that I have missed the time required to experience magic.
Last year and the year before, I had mourned this loss of festivity solemnly on Christmas morning. But this December, I plan to approach the quickly nearing date with a different perspective.
I now realize that my age is not to blame for my long-lost magic, nor is my schoolwork. In fact, there is no villain stealing my Christmas spirit. Instead, there is only evidence of loving people in my cherished memories. I have my parents, teachers, and dance coaches to thank for helping me create them.
It pains me to admit, but Christmas does not have inherent magic. Christmas is a day. Christmas Eve is a night. And the holiday season is just winter.
The people who surrounded me in my youth were the magic ones. They decorated a simple tree into art. They transformed classrooms into theatres. They cultivated traditions and provided proof that the impossible can be real.
Christmas magic is in the people, as cliché as that sounds. As I grow older, I don’t lose the magic—I just become the person to create it.
