KIDS IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD started singing Christmas carols as early as September, although our family agreed not to honor (read: give) their singing until December 1, often telling the kids, “wala pa krismas…”
Although a family consensus, I often find myself violating the rule. Despite seemingly valid arguments not to give yet, I am unable to resist the truth repeatedly reverberating through the shrill voices of the children singing in the months of September, October and November, “…kahit hindi Pasko ay magbigayan,” and instinctively reaching for some coins in my pocket. The next morning, we are in frantic search for coins for tricycle fares.
Well, December has begun. Christmas formally opens in the family abode. The five year-old Christmas tree is unwrapped and decorated. The lights were tested and found beautifully blinking in different patterns. The other Christmas decorations, hanging in the kitchen pantry and dining room the whole year round, were slightly dusted off, some Christmas songs played, and, voila, the Christmas spirit is on the air.
But the kids were no longer as excited, it seems. Until they were 9 or 10 years old, I remember them gazing with awe and admiration at the lights and the decors for hours the first time these were set up. Whenever we had the chance, we would stand together in front of the house after supper to enjoy the sights of the dancing lights.
This Christmas, we do not know what to do. I mean, we do not know what new things to do that would give deeper meaning and excitement to our Christmas, especially for the kids. The sock tacked on the door is no big deal anymore, where the kids used to wake up with excitement at 4:30am to find out Santa's gift for the day.
Except for the midnight meal ( Noche Buena ) and exchange gifts among family members after the mass, which include gifts for the pet dog, we have constantly changed the way we celebrated Christmas. Last year, for the first time, we had perfect attendance – together - in Simbang Gabi , thanks to the movie “Nine Mornings”, and thanks to a 1964 Volkswagen from my sister. Pagong made easier for us going to church at 3:30am.
The cool breeze of dawn was new to the kids. There is magic to the gentle air touching the face or the skin. The solemnity of the liturgy made them discover the beauty of an authentic religious experience. Except for the homilies (sharing of lay people on subjects that would have been better understood by the kids in a different setting), the whole experience was new for the children. Frankly, after our nine mornings, going to mass every Sunday was no longer as difficult for them.
The hot special bibingka and puto bumbong – it became part of the church landscape - was also something they looked forward to. Once, when the dawn mass ended earlier, we unanimously decided to visit the children's grandmother and aunties (my mother and sisters too) in another town 30 minutes drive away. Enjoying our baons served with their lola's prized sara-sara (boiled burned rice) and taho (salabat), the mere 20 minutes encounter – we had office and school - was worth one year of bonding. Early mornings possess such mysterious power that makes humans worthy of great miracles of love and forgiveness. The visit made a lasting impression on the kids, and both look forward to doing the same thing this year. Honestly, that visit was one of the reasons we made it a point to visit my 81-yr-old mother as often as possible.
Christmas need not be boring, or a burden. We could re-invent it every year. In fact, our happiest Christmas was at a time when the family was in the depth of poverty. In poverty, there were no obstacles and obstructions to our once-in-a-lifetime discovery and experience that family members are our greatest treasures, and that each of us are more than enough gifts for one another to make all our Christmases filled with meaning and happiness.
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