In countries where the commercialized Santa Claus has not
yet inhabited, children excitedly await the coming of the Magi. In Mexico, I remember putting my shoes nicely
lined on the side of my bed in hopes of receiving the gift they had carried
especially for me. Some years when
things were tight I would only get candy goodies that were greeted with the
same enthusiasm as the year that I must have been extra good and got a doll with stroller... I once read that people that
are the happiest usually don’t have a whole lot of material possessions. Judging by how times have changed and now my
family has adopted the Christmas present giving tradition, I reminisce on those
simpler days sometimes wishing I could travel back in time. Back then any gift would suffice because kids
like me didn’t have a whole lot so receiving a little extra no matter how
simple - always delighted our hearts. This
year, my nephew received tons of stuff and he was still not completely satisfied;
yet, I have heard of people that I know (grown-adults) who cry after opening a
gift that disappointed. These feelings
of dissatisfaction speak so clearly of the effects of our commercialized
culture, where we look at things to bring us happiness and it seems that every year
instead of celebrating the birth of Christ we are more concerned with the
perfect gift. And one thing I have
learned in years of therapy is that perfection outside of God doesn’t exist.
I myself haven’t left my shoes on the side of my bed since I
moved to California thirty years ago.
Slowly as my siblings and I have grown-up, we have forgotten this
tradition. Am not sure if it was in an attempt
to enculturate that we gave up the simple joy of shinning our shoes the night
before the Epiphany and placing them neatly on the side of our beds. Maybe it’s the fact that we live in a mostly
Anglo neighborhood and we are no longer motivated by the excitement of our old
town’s spirit. Goodness, how I remember
the animated anticipation for “El Dia de Los Reyes Magos” as I walked the
streets of mi pueblo en Michoacán. The days leading to it were always full of murmurs,
whispers of the fun that laid ahead. In
the center of the celebration, just as it was located in our pueblo was the
church. These gifts weren’t brought by a
chubby, old man with a beard (the one Coca-Cola made famous with its fifties
advertisements) these came from a day as old as history, and from a team of
Wise Men that worshipped the King of Kings by bringing gifts to the newborn
King that first Christmas. Sure they
gave us yummy treats and maybe even toys, but there was something deeper that
when we woke up that morning on January Sixth only warmness and gratefulness
filled our hearts. Then as we made our
way to Mass to celebrate in community, we would share our gifts popping a sweet
Colación in our mouths.
This year, I found
two Magi ornaments in my thrifting and as I hung them up on the tree all these
fond memories invaded my mind. It was
then that I realized that starting this year, I would incorporate this
celebration into my Christmas time again.
Yes, it’s still Christmas for us Catholics. This, Friday I am going to set a cute pair of
shoes as I haven’t done since I was a wee kid and in the morning I know they
will be filled with more than a bag of goodies or toys- they will have the same
spirit of esperanza (hope) and love that the
Wise Men brought and continue to bring in that Old Country of mine. Happy Epiphany in advance.
No comments:
Post a Comment