Lynda Barron

These days, I think I have more memories than lights on my itty bitty tree my father-in-law made for us almost 25 years ago. But they are all special, like the tree he crafted from coat hangers, tinsel and lights. I would rather have it than any tree in the world.

Even the things you think at the time aren’t special — those memories can turn out to be the best of all. Ah, when I catch that first whiff of pine needles, see the bright shiny decorations, and amazing blow-up ones, I think “they’re heeeerrrreeee.” No, no… not poltergeists — the holidays!

Trees awakened after Thanksgiving with lights in cities around the world, at Rockefeller Center since 1931, The White House since 1889 lit with candles, and in your own hometown. Every day more trees sparkled and shined their magic. When I walked through displays in stores, I still felt 5 years old. In fact, decorated trees date back to Germany in the Middle Ages. The legend of Santa Claus can be traced back to a monk, Saint Nicholas, who was born in Turkey around A.D. 280. St. Nicholas gave away all of his inherited wealth and traveled the countryside helping the poor and sick, becoming known as the protector of children and sailors. In 1822, Episcopal minister Clement Clarke Moore wrote a Christmas poem called “An Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas,” more popularly known today by it’s first line: “Twas The Night Before Christmas.” Around the early 19th century, Americans began to embrace Christmas as we now do.

Today, people graciously offer their homes for tour in many cities. With some of those being older updated homes, yet kept to the original floor plan, it’s fun to imagine Christmas in the 1920s. I envision people drinking wassail, sitting around a radio, stringing popcorn and making paper chains. Later my imaginary family bundles up and goes caroling.

The home I grew up in, dubbed an airplane bungalow, was built in 1921 by John C. Ryan, a prominent Fort Worth developer. If it is ever on the Ryan Place Christmas Tour, my childhood friend, Debi, and I are going even if we’re on walkers!

But no matter what the year, this is the season of goodwill, love, gingerbread, apple cider, mistletoe and celebration. And Guy Lombardo! What is New Year’s Eve without him and a crackling fireplace? Well, for us “old folks” anyway, and there’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve amid many other shows now. What a guy Dick Clark was, a trailblazer. I think Ryan Seacrest is as close to him as anyone could be, though. When I was a kid, I thought Guy Lombardo was the “corniest,” if you’ll pardon the expression. I see now what a great musician he was and how meaningful his tradition. Those things are timeless. But more than anything, this time is about the birth of Jesus Christ. We leave our lights up through the Epiphany. I love having them longer, too.

So many other things become apparent at Christmastime that are sadly, rarely seen during the year. Most of us will take time from our busy schedules to look at the magnificent decorations and lights, but to also look in each others hearts. I love to see others’ customs everywhere including foreign countries. I always learn something good from them. We’ll remember loved ones near and far, and those who are no longer on earth with us, but the grand times we had with them. Some of us have or will donate time and funds to give cheer to those in nursing homes or homeless shelters, both human and for animals.

Malls come alive with shoppers looking for the right gifts, Broadway Avenue in Tyler becomes almost a parking lot (almost just kidding), and Christmas treats from recipes of long ago are everywhere, placing temptation before the strictest of dieters. Not that I want to be awakened in the middle of the night by the Ghost of Christmas Eating Past, but Bah Humbug! It should be against the law to even think of dieting at such a time. Besides, there’s always time for New Year’s resolutions we don’t keep! It is possible, though, to keep them. This past year for the first time in my life, I did, on exercising and losing weight. I hope this inspires someone out there because it’s never too late. I thought, if Scrooge could keep his resolutions, I could.

When Charles Dickens wrote his highly acclaimed, “A Christmas Carol,” in 1843, it wasn’t unlike his own life in some ways. He finished it in six weeks on Dec. 19. He had great empathy for the poor, as reflected in his other works, too. Often a bit surly, one can see his love for people through his characters. One of Dickens’ great quotes was, “I write because I can’t help it.”

But the thing that rings truer and louder than anything else is the spirit of Christmas. Amid all the glitter, bargains, online ads blinking at us, and “new and improved” models of everything, there is one thing that remains. It costs nothing and adds no weight — just a lot of joy. It’s the looks on people’s faces young and old, in togetherness of family and friends, and remembering why we really celebrate Christmas, deciding what it means to each of us. It can even be found while having to patch up the old string of lights one more time because you just didn’t have the money this year to buy new ones.

Or perhaps for other reasons, it’s been a sad time for you. But you put up a small tree anyway. I did, one year, as I had lost my first husband right before Thanksgiving in 1991. I realized at the last minute I needed to have Christmas — not just for me but for him. So I rushed out late one night to buy all white lights and an angel to go on top. It was one of the loveliest trees I ever had. Through that, I found some peace for my heart. When the new year came, I had hope there would be life for me again. The next year, I came to Tyler not knowing a soul, just having the promise of a job, and found that life.

There are a few more places Christmas can be found, no matter what. When I was a child, every Christmas Eve, I waited up to the wee hours for Santa’s arrival. Once I thought I heard “hoofsteps” on the roof, but I never saw him. I concluded he was just too smart for me. Not to worry though, I would catch him next year.

Today, I still believe in Christmas magic. Like Santa from The Polar Express said, “Remember the magic of Christmas lies in your heart.” I love to see the twinkle in a person’s eyes when they speak of their memories because it lets me know that they still believe, too. Or a very conservative relative of mine, who once on a carriage ride long ago began waving and asked, “Is this how the Queen does it?” Yes, it was. Or in our beloved Uncle Ed Hodge, who knew how to drop his false teeth at just the right moment at the Christmas Eve gathering and scare all us kids while the 8mm camera was on him. Priceless!

And where would I be without visions of sugarplums and Ralphie in his bunny suit from “A Christmas Story.” Each year, as I watch “It’s A Wonderful Life,” I still get misty-eyed when Harry Bailey says, “To my big brother George, the richest man in town.” I believe we all have a Clarence Oddbody looking out for us.

My mind will forever run the scene from “Miracle on 34th Street” when John Payne tells Maureen O’Hara, a staunch disbeliever in Mr. Claus, that “Faith is believing in things when common sense tells you not to.” In my life that’s been proven more than once.

Last but not least, is 1964’s “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer,” narrated by Burl Ives. I have watched it every year since. Last year, “Santa Paws” brought my furkids the toys from the show, the “Island of Misfit Toys,” Herbie, the Elf who wanted to be a dentist, and dear Bumbles and Yukon Cornelius. Its song, “There’s Always Tomorrow for Dreams to Come True,” gives me a special kind of hope and I’ve lived my life that way.

I’ve always loved the story behind Rudolph, “the most famous reindeer of all.” It was the product of Robert L. May’s imagination in 1939. Working as a copywriter for Montgomery Ward in Chicago, May wrote a book about a reindeer to help create goodwill for the store and heal his family’s hearts, as during the writing, his wife had passed away, and he was very much in debt. But when he saw the look on his daughter’s face after reading Rudolph to her, he knew it was everything he had hoped.

So, all these things and more, and my own beloved memories are Christmastime and New Year’s. After all, can you really be sure Santa isn’t real? In 1897, little Virginia O’Hanlon wrote to the New York Sun asking that question. The answer: a resounding “yes” by the editor, Francis B. Church.

Hmm… So after careful consideration, I waited up and left a plate of cookies and protein shake out — just in case. And about 3 a.m. promptly fell asleep. Well all right, next year I will catch me that Santa fella and add to my collection of memories! And if you didn’t fall asleep reading this much, I thank you. I write because I can’t help it.

I hope you had a Merry Christmas and I wish you a Happy New Year full of good things!