Do you ever watch Hallmark Christmas movies where everything is covered in a blanket of winter snow, all the children are happy, the small town radiates with fun and quirky characters, and the attractive, star-crossed couple find love in the end.
My husband loves these movies. He’s the most macho guy I’ve ever met, but he still devours these Hallmark Christmas movies for the pure and unabashed sentimentality they reliably deliver. They simply make him happy.
They have the opposite effect on me. Comparison-itis? As a woman with no children, those movies always remind me of the void. The lovely couple? They don’t have crows-feet or arthritis like me. I know I’m not the only one who sometimes struggles at Christmas, though people rarely talk about it. The Christmas season makes us harken back to our youth when we remember the undiluted joy of Christmas morning and the delicious anticipation leading up to it. Most of us had no understanding about loneliness, terminal illness, the fear of poverty, or worries about a life not fully lived. As an adult, most of us have had to confront such issues, and that’s why some of us escape into a Hallmark movie.
For me, I’ve always liked a little sorrow in a Christmas story to balance out the unremitting happy images beamed at us from every glowing television set, social media page, or billboard.
Maybe that’s why I love The Gift of the Magi. It’s about normal, loving, and flawed people who love each other despite a life that would never look good on Instagram. They are wise enough to know their blessings and celebrate what they have….even if a part of them wishes they had a snazzy watch or beauty to make others gape in admiration. They know what’s important….even if they sometimes long for more. And that’s okay!