I did not celebrate Christmas growing up. From a distance, it’s enticing, all glitter, shine and warmth. I loved looking at the lights at night, and fantasized about stockings hung over a fireplace.
We had neither. I was born too late in the century to call them anything but socks, and we lived in a NYC apartment. I didn’t know anyone who had a fireplace, much less stockings, except for the nylon things old fashioned ladies wore.
Nonetheless, we children of the sixties had Hanukah presents. It was a new tradition, one pushed by rabbis onto the parents so we wouldn’t feel left out. Nobody wrapped anything, and the presents were only from parent to child. It wasn’t huge, but it was fun and warm and ours.
I never saw the madness and the stress of holiday shopping and long distance travel, families dividing time between increasingly far-flung parents and in-laws, laden with presents bought solely because it was Christmas. I only saw the Hallmark fantasy.
After marriage, we always spent Christmas with Kurt’s folks, who lived twenty minutes away from us. The first few years, we exchanged gifts, but once everyone had children, we stopped. We only exchanged gifts for the children, which made shopping fun.
It wasn’t until later, when default gifts came my way, that I really paid attention to what people bought at Christmas. Watches with changeable holiday themed bands, chia pets, salad shooters, endless varieties of shower gel. Stuff that people bought only because they had to buy something for someone who already had everything.
Which brings us to Copenhagen. People do affect the climate. Next time you’re in a traffic jam, look at all the tailpipes radiating heat, spewing emissions. Then multiply it by every rush hour in the country. How can it not be affecting the earth?
We don’t have to wait for an international pact to do something about it. The power lies with us.
We don’t have to buy as much. China is one of the world’s biggest emitters of carbon and other pollutants, and most of the useless stuff we buy is made there. So just leave it on the shelf. We don’t need TVs so big that you see every pore, and we don’t need them in every room. People don’t need giant houses to raise a perfectly nice family, SUVs to drive to the grocery store. And we really don’t need chia pets and inflatable Santas.
We can still have parties, presents and good times, homes and cars. We just don’t have to push everything to the max. Changing a few light bulbs won’t do it. Changing our mindsets will.
Peace on Earth, and let’s take good care of it. It’s the only one we have.
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