The high school I occupied during my preadult period was nearly 90 percent Jewish. When many of the more important Hebrew holidays were celebrated, like in September and October, they actually consolidated as many as three or four classes for any given subject into a single room. Even with that arrangement, I was one of only a tiny handful of students in there. We had a lot of fall study halls back then.

     Hanukkah was different because it usually seemed to coincide pretty closely with Christmas and everybody was off from school—even the kids who celebrated holidays with names most of us never heard of. In those days, you were either a Christian or a Jew and nobody was offended by wishes of “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Hanukkah,” even if you got it wrong. In my neighborhood, the Christmas tree and the menorah lived side by side. In fact, a few Jewish people I knew celebrated both occasions.

     When I was nibbling at the edges of eleven or twelve, I remember my friend Carl proudly inviting me over to see his Hanukkah bush! At the time, I didn’t see why it was such a big deal. I mean, by any other name a Christmas tree is still a Christmas tree, right? As I came to understand later, Carl’s family was more the exception than the rule. I used to feel sorry for the Jewish kids at Christmastime. There we were, laughin’ and scratchin’ with our new bikes, scooters, skates, and Flexible Flyers from Santa Claus, and those kids had nothing. They just stared at all our stuff and marveled at our big, broad grins.

     By the time I got to high school, three revelations replaced my pity. First of all, I discovered that Jewish kids got presents for Hanukkah just like the rest of us did for Christmas, only at a slightly different time, and without benefit of a jolly old elf to deliver them. Second, they not only celebrated their own holidays, but Christian ones too—which meant they had twice as much time off from school as the rest of us! Finally, and most important of all, I came to know it isn’t the glitter that matters—it’s the substance.

     Particularly where Christmas is concerned, I hear a lot of grousing about “the commercialism, the stress, and the spending” that has become such an integral part of the holiday. I’ve even read articles about people opting out of the celebration altogether. It’s sad that some confuse the tangible with the spiritual, the shopping mall with the manger, and that for them the glitz and glitter have become the traditional way to celebrate. Many view Christmas itself as a tradition rather than the historically significant occasion it represents. Christmas contains traditions the same way the Fourth of July has fireworks, but its true meaning goes far beyond mere repetition, even over a couple of hundred centuries.

     By the way, for those who advocate beginning “a new tradition,” whether to do with Christmas or something else, by definition it’s a conflict in terms. Declaring a practice to be a tradition without first having it reoccur over a reasonable period of time is like planning the wedding before you have a bride!

     Oddly enough, in their determination to avoid the potential hassle and increasing expense, people are rediscovering the magic instead of the frustrations of the season. Rather than store-bought gifts, which she can’t afford, one single mom I know has her kids write letters to each other that they’ll open on Christmas morning. She says, “We’re going to tell each other what we love about our family. And that’s it.” There is nothing wrong with giving a homemade present, a letter, a song, or some other form of personal expression. In fact, there’s everything right with it, and often, recipients prefer such gifts! Do you suppose the pioneers hitched up the ol’ Conestoga and rolled out to the mall to pick up a last-minute something for the kids—or might they have had to use a little imagination?

     Some of my most cherished memories are connected with Christmas. To me, it would be unthinkable not to drink of the joy that is to be found at this wonderful time of year, especially if you are willing to color just a little outside the lines. I can’t imagine not celebrating Christmas, any more than I can imagine a clean-shaven Santa or a child without a toy. Christmas or Hanukkah, Christian or Jew, at the end of the day it really doesn’t matter how you celebrate or what you believe—it only matters that you do!