Letter to Santa

I was all set to write another entry in my blog on Friday when I heard what had happened to the children at the Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut.

I was too shocked and saddened to write anything.  The events in that stricken community reminded me of what had happened at Dunblane Primary 16 years ago when I was living in Scotland.

Then, as now, a gunman had entered the school, killing 16 five-and-six year-olds and their teacher, for reasons not yet known.  Then, as now, we saw footage of grieving families and haggard police on the nightly news.

It was a heart-breaking, painful time in the little town's history, one those who lived through it will never forget. But there was a positive outcome of that tragic event.

Two women in Dunblane started the Snowdrop Campaign - so-called because only snowdrops were growing at the time of that March massacre - to ban handguns.

Within six weeks they had gathered 750,000 signatures on a petition, and within a year-and-a-half, had achieved their aim. Last year the UK, population 60 million,  had eight deaths from handguns; the US, with 300 million people, had 10,000.

This morning I read in the newspaper that today, December 17th, is the last day to get letters to Santa in time for Christmas. All day I have been thinking of what I would write if Santa could grant me my wish.

What I want is a world where children can grow up in a world of peace and joy, like the Christmas carols say, and not be threatened or harmed by those who have hate in their hearts.

I want a world where children can learn and play in their communities safely and securely, knowing that they are loved and protected.

I want for every child what we have here at Pacific Gardens.

Kathryn

A little sparkle...

So, It was that time for PG to get a little festive.

I lead the children's activities. We glittered up pine cones and made small snowflakes for the children's tree. Then Gloria made about a hundred cookies and the kids decorated them. They stayed out with the veggies, popcorn, tea and hot chocolate for the showings of The Grinch Who Stole Christmas and The Grinch. And then the kids took the left overs door to door to hand them out to our neighbours.



This is the adult tree with paper snowflakes.



And this is the kids' tree:



 In true PG style the baking, hot chocolate, decorating, cleaning etc. was all a team effort.

That being said, after all of that chaos, I am feeling a bit burnt out. Maybe it would be nice to split up the decorating and the crafts and make two special and fun days instead of fitting it all into one.

But kicking back and watching a funny movie was just the thing I needed. Thank you!

-Myriam

Getting back into synch

The frenzy of Christmas used to bother me. I found it stressful. That was until I to some extent unplugged the Christmas machine, or at least tamed it to a tolerable level.

Some years ago a book about mythology explained to me why the North American Christmas is over the top.

Apparently winter used to be a quiet time in Northern Europe. The long hours of darkness and the cold weather naturally lent themselves to a more restful period. According to the book about mythology, that was reflected in the winter holidays of the Norse people.

The Romans, on the other hand, were just the opposite. They commemorated the dedication of the temple of the god Saturn on December 17th. They called the holiday Saturnalia, and it evolved into a playful week-long celebration that had much in common with the North American Christmas of today. There were school vacations, feasts, exchanges of gifts, pranks, etc.

When one considers that Southern Europe has a milder winter than Northern Europe, one can understand why the Romans were less constrained by the weather than the Norse people were.

It seems to me that cheap energy in the second half of the twentieth century allowed us North Americans to override the climate in which we lived. If we still were hunter-gatherers or even farmers, we in Canada and the Northern Tier states of the USA would be forced to celebrate a much quieter Christmas. Even my mother, who grew up in Hungary before and during the Second World War, reports that it was a big deal to find a fresh orange in her Christmas stocking.

When I started simplifying my Christmas celebrations some years ago, I did not retreat into a cave. Certainly I do enjoy having Christmas Dinner with family and friends. I also enjoy buying gifts for a very few close family members and friends. (I generally buy gifts way ahead of time, in order to keep December as stress-free as possible.) Now that I'm trying to be even more eco-friendly than before, I probably will make many of my Christmas gifts in future.

This year the unusual weather on Vancouver Island forced many of us to simplify even more than we might have wanted to do. If Peak Oil comes to pass, I wonder what Christmas (and the rest of our lives) will look like. I suspect there is the potential for Voluntary Simplicity to turn into Involuntary Simplicity.

Be that as it may, I like to relax during these days between Christmas and New Year. I like to feel the rhythm of winter.

Last night I played some haunting Celtic music that my son in Calgary had told me about by e-mail that afternoon. I turned off all the lights in my townhouse, lit a single tea light, turned the volume of the music down low, sank into the couch, and felt my body melting into the supportive atmosphere.

This morning I feel refreshed and ever so grateful to have had the chance to chill out.

Christmas was magical

When weather stranded me on Vancouver Island, the parents of a Nanaimo friend, who live in Victoria, invited me for Christmas at short notice. My friend and I caught the Greyhound bus down there on the afternoon of Christmas Eve and returned to Nanaimo by train on Boxing Day (December 26th).

I had the greatest fun with this family, who had been total strangers to me. We spent much of Christmas Day in their kitchen, joking and laughing and cooking up a storm. Fortunately, turkey with stuffing and all the trimmings is a fairly universal meal, which most people in Canada prepare roughly the same way. So it was easy to fall into the rhythm of helping in someone else's kitchen. The reward was a delicious Christmas Dinner.

I was sleepy and nodded off during our late afternoon bus ride to Victoria. But our return journey took place in the morning, when I was alert. This gave me an opportunity to appreciate the stunning scenery over the Malahat Pass and along the shores of Shawnigan Lake. Uncharacteristically, snow-covered Vancouver Island looked like the set of Dr. Zhivago.

Now I'm back in my rented townhouse. This has been a lazy day of reading. For me, these days between Christmas and New Year are amongst the most relaxing of the entire year. Absolute bliss.

Joy to the world

I am just loving the Christmas season in Nanaimo.

Unlike a larger city, where it was difficult to find a parking spot and my ears felt assaulted by Muzak in the shopping malls, the Christmas season in Nanaimo has been convivial but relaxed.

Celebrations have been simple and fun -- potluck suppers, outdoor carol singing with friends followed by hot chocolate, concerts put on by churches and amateur choirs.

Don't know what to buy the person who has everything? In Nanaimo this is a non-issue. Give her a jar of your homemade applesauce. And, in my circle, be sure to wrap it in a tea towel rather than Christmas paper. My friends are nothing if not "green."

As to the question of what to wear to a Chrimstas party. Well, the big decision that usually faces me is, "This pair of jeans or that pair of jeans?"

I don't know if it's my imagination, but it feels to me as if it's much easier on Vancouver Island for my heart to "prepare Him room."