Wednesday, January 11, 2012

The True Spirit of Christmas.

The two toes I broke, walking into the wardrobe, six weeks ago (roughly) have healed nicely. Two of the three toes (other foot) I broke falling over in the hospital car-park have healed. The other one, however, is refusing to heal and still hurts. My GP is muttering various threats about "setting wrong and needing re-breaking". I don't like that. It always hurts far more when doctors re-break things than it does breaking them in the first place. She's going to give it another week. (Dear toe, please heal. Now!!).

Right. In answer to my plea of yesterday a generous reader has stepped up to the crease and bowled us an excellent ramble. Take it away, Mel...

    Hi Ze, I follow your rants with great interest; just before Christmas you wrote of the young Barbara who gave you such a wonderful present - a card and a mince pie. It made me think of how small things, that may seem so insignificant to the giver, can throw ripples into the world far beyond the initial kindness.

    Christmas is not a holiday I relish. Family issues conspire to make me sad at this time. I struggle even to put up a tree. Every year I swear I shall not bother with cards, then, as the kind cards from others arrive and I feel the faint stirrings of something like joy, to think that they should think of us - off I go to my computer and make a simple 'Happy holidays' card, with a pic of our valley in the snow and a cheery, albeit short, tale of our doings over the year. However, still, the season escapes me; non stop carols and Christmas music on Classic FM, endless stories of folk hocking their world to buy ever more expensive presents - when truly, the message is much simpler.

    On Christmas Eve, I walked off down into the valley, where the small town in which I live nestles in the Cotswold Hills of England. There are people rushing here and there, carrying wrapping paper and vast bags of turkeys and geese; and there is me.... I am shopping for a small stuffed turkey thigh just enough for two, with cold cuts for Boxing day and some veggies. As I reach the butcher, find that I have forgotten my wallet!! I have a £20 pound note for emergencies in my jacket so set to to try to source our Christmas lunch on that amount. I get the turkey thigh; some sprouts; a parsnip or two; some potatoes; some small sausages for 'pigs-in-blankets'. And I head for the local Co-Op store to get a small pudding. I am 4p short!! I stand there, mortified and consider not bothering...but I know that the best part of any meal for my wee girl, is the dessert, so I gird my loins and risk humiliation in front of the queue.

    'I am 4p short, can I bring it in after Christmas?'

    There was a silence, then a cacophony of sounds as 5 people behind me offer me the 4p I am short. Cries of 'It's Christmas eve'...'You must have a pud for Christmas'. The assistant joined in with 'Darlin', if I had to chase you for 4p, I’d give up my job'.

    And so it was, that late Christmas eve afternoon, that I, this curmudgeonly bah humbug, was subject to, and in receipt of, the true message and the joy of giving.

    I have always believed in 'Paying it forward', and live my life to that maxim, all year round, so I now have the chance to repay these kindnesses and I shall do so. For that is what Christmas, and in truth, the whole year, should be. Give simple kindnesses and have them repaid to others. I am not a Christian but respect those who are. Surely, any festival, of any religion or creed, that makes us feel more caring of our fellows, should be better celebrated by us all ??

    Mel AKA Scribingbard


Thanks Mel.

Enjoy your updates, folks. See you next week. Goodnight and may your God/s go with you.

Ze

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1 comment:

Tamara said...

Loved the ramble. Definitely gift us with one again some time.

7:36 PM

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