"Christmas isn’t just a day, it’s a frame of mind."
---"Kris Kringle" in "Miracle on 34th Street"
"Peace on Earth."
"Goodwill towards men."
The Christmas tree.
Presents for everyone.
Carols and carolers.
These are just a few things synonymous with the Christmas Season.
But Christmas is really so much more.
Forget about for a moment the materialism, the covetousness of store sales, politics of gift-giving, the pressure to spend unwisely and all the tension and anxiety we inane mortals have applied to this most divine holiday.
For just a moment, can you?
Christmas is the spirit of giving, because symbolically Jesus gave his life for us. Shouldn’t we give gifts to honor his supreme gift? It is the thought, not the present.
It is the celebration of peace and the extending of happiness to complete strangers; it’s cheerily saying "Merry Christmas!" to a complete stranger walking his dog late at night on a darkened street. And having the inevitably jolly response come right back at you.
It is the hope that we exchange with each other, silently or verbally, that our world will be an increasingly better place to live.
Noiselessly, we are all sending everyone we encounter the wish for peace, health and harmony for all. Isn’t this an incredible spiritual communication?
Christmas is snow, hopefully and a whole lot of it!
There’s nothing as beautiful or serene as a walk through the snow on Christmas morning.
If there was, it’d be a Christmas Eve stroll under a broad, starry sky.
Christmas is taking care of those who take care of us all year long. The postman, trash collector and others who help us navigate the perils of daily life should also receive a little something at this time of year, even if just a token, to recognize, reward and honor them. A bit of respect — in monetary form.
Christmas is about putting aside work and all the headaches frequently associated with the office, to spend time with friends and family to share Christmas cheer.
To catch up and find out what those important people to us have been up to while catching them up on our activities for the last year.
And sometimes, Christmas is for someone’s salvation.
The salvation of their marriage, their home, their children, their job.
Sometimes it’s for the sanctity of their mind, their body or their soul.
For me, Christmas 2019, was a time for the salvation of my life; my existence as a living, breathing human being.
I had been waiting for three years for a kidney transplant and while I kept my chin up and a smile on my face as much as I could, it was a debilitating and soul-destroying wait.
I tried to cheer others to keep going because in a hopeless situation, there should always be hope.
But in all brutal honesty, my hope was waning underneath that positive exterior.
So it was on Christmas Day, 2019, as I was leaving the Church that saved my life when I first came to Asheville, North Carolina I crossed the threshold into the bright sunshine and my phone rang.
As "Joy to the World" resounded behind me, a voice said to me, "Mr. Robinson, we’d like to offer you a kidney."
Now obviously, those nine words will comprise the meaning of Christmas to me for the rest of my days.
Christmas is also a family time.
Now, I lived in England for eight years.
And, nobody, I repeat, nobody does Christmas like the English.
It’s a time for cramming ourselves into the local pub to eat, drink, and be merry in an absolutely exquisite and priceless location . . . for the English pub is like no other.
It’s positively suigeneris.
The clinking of pint glasses above the din; the happy, boisterous chatter; the gaffer excitedly ordering staff around to attend to the punters; the old timers in the corner telling stories; the lads playing darts or pool while shouting jokes; the ladies grouped together whispering conspiratorially about something or the other; the children chasing each other wildly about the place, laughing.
The children.
Perhaps the meaning of Christmas for me which I feel most viscerally is the children.
They are what Christmas is centrally about, peripherally, it’s for everyone to enjoy, but the children make it special.
Their eyes tell the complete story.
You can see the Joy of Christmas in a small boy’s eyes just after asking him what he wants for Christmas. There’s the dazzling twinkle of hope in a little girl’s face when you can get them to verbalize about their outlook for Christmas.
It’s awe-inspiring. I see God in an infant’s eyes.
It happens to me every once in a long while; I wonder does this ever happen to you?
Babies, especially newborns cannot see very far at all, sure their vision is developing fast but it has to rev up from essentially nothing.
A brand new baby can see perhaps a few inches in front of its face, increasing to a foot or so in the first few days.
So, I’ll be walking along, minding my own business and a newborn usually being held by their parent will cross my path.
For just a second or two, and in that moment, this freeze-frame in time, that infant’s eyes will lock onto mine very intensely, and stay there until they disappear out of sight. I love when this happens because it’s a truly beautiful and supernatural occurrence.
And it happens to me, more often than not, at Christmastime.
Joy to the World!!
"I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all year."
— from Charles Dickens: "A Christmas Carol."
(Related articles may be found here, here, and here.)
(This is my story. We all have our stories. If you’d like to share yours with me or you would like my prayers, I’d love to hear from you. My email is Bill@RelentlessMarketing.com)
Bill Robinson has appeared on NewsmaxTV, Fox News, CNN, PBS, Bloomberg, BBC and had his own segment on SKY News. For seven years was the only Conservative columnist for the insufferably Liberal Huffington Post. He has written columns and articles for The Wall Street Journal Europe, Forbes.com, Fortune Small Business, The Financial Times, The Moscow Times, United Airline's Hemispheres Magazine and many others. Read more of Bill Robinson's Reports — Here.
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