Lights and Laughter Nov 26, 2002 – By Carol Givner
Holiday Ideas Blessed With Happiness: Wouldn't Ebenezer Be
Impressed?
The days are getting shorter, and the holiday lights are going up all over my
town. Each year, I worry about the impending darkness. Will I have enough
money to express the love I feel in my heart for my family and friends?
Of course not.
I love them much more than I can buy for them.
So, instead of going into debt for baubles and beads, I trade my worry in for
creativity, and concentrate on dispelling the coming night with the joy of
lights, laughter, and gifts that mean a great deal to me.
For example, I love the internet. What a cool toy. I can find the love poetry
Robert Browning wrote to his dear Elizabeth Barrett, and I can send free
e-cards to my favorite people.
And a few I'm not so crazy about, but they look like they could use a little
holiday cheer.
Do a search of all the greeting card sites, and create a game or serial set
of holiday e-cards. Perhaps a tic-tac-toe you send back and forth through
greetings or an Add-On story, where you and your buddy take turns adding
sentences until you've told a secret or given a compliment. Start sending
them the day after Thanksgiving, so you have time to play before the egg nog
kicks in mid-December.
Once you have your family and friends in the holiday mood, send them a
package of home-baked cookies. Don't bother with the expensive ingredients.
Instead, rely on sugar cookies cut out in shapes you love. Pack well in $1
tins in recycled cartons you've cleverly been saving, padded with newspapers.
For in-the-city friends, make them luxurious oils. Search wholesalers on line
for healthy canola oil in bulk. Fill decorative bottles you've been saving
because you are thrifty and love the art scene, and add sprigs of rosemary or
thyme. Seal them with corks you've accumulated from those wine and cheese
parties where all the neighbors could hear you singing.
And for the people you love the best, give them the lasting light of a gift
of a possession of your own. Did your best friend since elementary school
admire your scarf? Give it to her along with the matching gloves. Did you
cousin, who helped you reach the counter in the market before you were tall
enough to get there on your own, compliment the coffee table book on Chagall?
Wrap it nicely for him. Did the person, who gave you your first
more-than-mere-affection kiss, tell you how cool your recording of La Boheme
sounds? Be sure to include the liner notes.
And for yourself, you didn't think I was going to forget about you, did you?
Give yourself a pat on the back. You've given of yourself, and you don't
expect to get anything back.
So, who's the real Santa Claus and where is the true eight day miracle of
hope?
