Watching

Even now in my older age, Christmas evokes a feeling of anticipation. While I would like to claim a heightened level of spirituality celebrating the coming of God onto our planet, that is not entirely true. Not even mostly true. It is a leftover feeling.

Like the leftover feelings of freedom I feel when school is out for the summer. Sure, I still have to go to work in my coat and tie, but when I see kids leaving the school on that last day before the summer break, that wonderful light joyful feeling comes back, just as if I too were walking out the door of the school with arms full of an academic year's worth of accumulated stuff from desks, cloakrooms and lockers, struggling to get to the car and get away as soon as possible.

When I was a child the anticipation of Christmas was almost more than a person could stand. In November or so the Sears and J. C. Penney catalogs, Christmas editions, came out, with huge toy and bicycle sections. Cousin Cliff of Channel 13 Popeye/Three stooges fame and Benny Carl of Channel 6, Bugs Bunny/Clutch Cargo fame hawked the latest toys from Mattel, Hasbro, and Parker Brothers. The window of Wittmeir Hardware, on the second floor of that building, which was kind of like Macy's in Oneonta, was decorated in green and red and sported bicycles, bb guns, and little red wagons. There were probably dolls, but I never noticed. Huge fake snow covered bells were strung across the streets of Oneonta, which was kind of odd because we never really got snow at Christmas and we never had any real bells anywhere, except for that one really big bell that rang at the elementary school for several years, but that had little to do with Christmas. In fact, the feeling it evoked every morning at 7:40 was the Anti-Christmas as far as I was concerned. Our school principal came around every Christmas to every classroom selling those wonderful looking Claxton fruitcakes. He was a Civitan. We always bought one. My dad and grandfather were also Civitans. I never really ate one until I was a starving college student and the brick of candied fruit and nuts was all I could find in my dorm room to eat. But it was great when warmed in a toaster oven.

But back to the anticipation. The tree was up and gifts began to appear. There was a whole lot of shaking going on, clandestinely.

So I watched. I watched the mail for the new catalogues. I watched Cousin Cliff and Benny Carl for the latest toy offerings. I watched the store windows and the decorated streets. I watched the Christmas tree and the gathering gifts. I even watched for our principal to come around with Claxton fruit cakes.

And I watched the calendar.

Watching is a part of Christmas. Joseph watched his young wife and wondered what this all would mean. Mary watched her stomach grow and awaited the blessed delivery. The shepherds were watching their flocks. The wise men were watching the star.

It is not Christmas yet. But it is time to make room. Room to wait. Room to watch. Room for the Holy child, who I think, being a child, would really love all this watching.

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