One Woman's Perspective
Last Week's Column

AM I A GRINCH?
by Kira Sampson

et me say right up front, I love Christmas -- I really do. The smell of bayberry, the twinkling lights, the sounds of carols...I feel a goofy grin spreading across my face even as I type. I pore over Christmas decorating books and magazines, nostalgic for Christmases that never were. Whenever I travel, I usually try to buy a Christmas ornament as a souvenir. I don't even mind the crowds at the malls (except when I need to pay for something and nature is calling -- loudly!).

So how am I a Grinch? Well, as much as I love the sights, sounds, and smells of Christmas, I hate the bother. Let me see if I've got this straight: besides my usual routine of working (albeit part-time), homeschooling my son, writing this column and Board Mothering VegSource, cooking the meals, doing the laundry, and trying to maintain some order in our household, I've also got to lug the Christmas decorations down from the attic (and back up after Christmas is over), decorate the tree, buy presents and stand in line at the post office to mail those for out-of-town relatives, as well as playing Suzy Homemaker as I cheerfully bake sugar cookies and fudge, something I never do any other time of the year. Does that about cover it?

I guess I'm really nostalgic for those childhood days when Mom and Dad did all the drudge stuff and all I had to worry about was getting the ornaments distributed evenly on the tree and what I was going to buy for my parents with my meager allowance. The funny thing is, when I was first married, I always enjoyed putting up a Christmas tree, but now that I have a child and want to provide him with some of those warm and wonderful Christmas memories, I feel irked at the obligation.

So I'm a Grinch. I admit it. I try to hide it from my family, especially my son, but he's nine now, going on thirty, so it gets harder every year. For instance, today we bought our Christmas tree, the first time we've had a real tree (as opposed to artificial) since my son was born, or at least since he was old enough to remember. We had so many other errands to run I knew we wouldn't have time to decorate the tree today, but I thought we'd just get it home, put it on the stand, fill the stand with water, and then it could wait until tomorrow for the decorations. Simple, right?

Wrong! We had to buy a stand, of course, since we haven't had a real tree in ages. We bought the one provided by the nursery where we got the tree. But when we got home, we discovered the stand was too large to fit properly on the table where we were planning to set the tree (we have to keep it up high to prevent the dogs from dragging it through the house). So I took the stand back and bought a similar but smaller one from a different nursery. Actually, I thought they were identical except for the leg spread, but when I got home I discovered that the spike on the new stand, on which the hole drilled in the trunk of the Christmas tree was supposed to fit, didn't. Fit, I mean. This spike was too small, and the tree leaned like a tipsy elf who's had a tad too much schnapps.

By now I was seething. It's Christmas. We're supposed to be merry, dammit! I wasn't feeling the slightest bit merry. I was snapping at all and sundry, and acting like the very antithesis of Santa Claus -- anti-Claus, if you will. The Grinch.

I'd like to say that after visiting our local mall, all decked out for Christmas, that the soothing sounds of "Silent Night" and the sparkling eyes of toddlers seeing the Christmas sights for the first time smoothed away all that Grinch-ness and brought my Christmas spirit back. It didn't. But it did help. I'm feeling a little more mellow now, and I'm even looking forward to decorating the Christmas tree tomorrow.

Oh, by the way -- we did find a way to fix that stand so that the tree leans only a little bit. And now that we've dragged the trunk of Christmas decorations down from the attic, I'm starting to remember all those trips where I bought those Christmas ornaments. You know, we've been fortunate enough to travel to some wonderful places, and met quite a few nice people along the way. I remember Bill and Pidge, who ran that lovely little bed and breakfast we stayed in when we visited the Grand Canyon...

Well, that's what Christmas is all about, isn't it? Goodwill toward our fellow man (and woman)? I'll take mine wherever I can find it -- even in the middle of summer, in the middle of the desert. The spirit of Christmas dwells in the heart, after all.

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Kira Sampson is a writer, homeschool mother, news editor, and editor/publisher of two newsletters, one for her local homeschool group and the other for a local writer's group.

She is also one of the Founders of People for Children & Animals, Inc. Her column, One Woman's Perspective, is a regular feature of VegSource On-Line Magazine.