Girl Talk
Look to a child for the true magic of Christmas
CLARE MARIE CELANO
Looking back over the holidays of my past, I realize that my Christmas festivities have not only evolved, but have taken on various lives of their own.

As a child, Christmas was it, the ultimate in a kid's life, the day we all waited 364 days to arrive. My parents didn't have a lot back then, but every Christmas there were some new toys and dolls that found their way under our festive Christmas tree.

Family gatherings, gift giving, along with the Italian tradition of eating all day long, were all a part of our holiday ritual.

When my teenage years arrived, Christmas seemed to have lost bits and pieces of its original luster. The gifts, the holiday traditions, the whole Christmas thing, for whatever reason, seemed to have taken a nosedive.

Whenmarriage and babies came along, Christmas took on new life, new hope, a home of our own to lovingly decorate and more importantly, precious children to lavish Christmas on and infuse its spirit into. Sharing Christmas with my kids not only allowed me the joy of giving themsome things they truly wanted, it also allowed me to feel the magic I once felt what seemed a million years ago.

The years of toys, gadgets, games, talking dolls, remote-control cars and trucks, bicycles, dollhouses and Easy- Bake Ovens, along with memories of Santa, are all priceless collages that linger as part of the landscape of my often crowded mind. And, lest I forget, a ton of 35 mm and Polaroid snapshots are never too far away to remind me.

Photos of happy, excited children in soft, cozy, flannel pajamas, unwrapping gifts are always close at hand to elicit those fond memories, as are the photos of half-asleep parents, appearing drunk, not from festive party libations the night before, but rather from lack of sleep from the intense preparations the whole Christmas Eve tradition requires to make it all come together just the way you want it.

Moments such as the reading of "'Twas the Night Before Christmas," along with the all-important task of setting up milk and cookies and tucking excited tiny bodies into warm beds, all vie for top billing in my mind as all-time greats.

Remembering the huge, fresh Christmas tree laced with cardboard Santas, macaroni wreaths and red ribbons woven on scented branches that graced our living room is always a twoway street that brings both happiness and a touch of sadness for all the years that have passed since those happy times.

With my children in tow, Christmas had once again become magic for me as I reconnected with the child in me.

Remembering watching film classics such as "It's a Wonderful Life," "A Christmas Story" and "Christmas Vacation," something we did every year in our home, even now brings back the sounds of childish delight and strengthens the belief that the Christmas season does indeed impart its own personal form of magic on all who are willing to see it.

Years after my kids had grown up, Christmas and magic once again took on a new role. The traditions remained, but the light somehow dimmed for me. Life, however, is a system of checks and balances,

so in order to balance the dimness, life sent me back the magic in the form of grandchildren.

The light of Christmas magic and its spirit is illuminated nowhere clearer than in the eyes of children, and an annual holiday sleepover with my grandson helped me to remember this.

It hasn't been an easy time for our family. My children lost their father, my ex-husband, a year and a half ago, and the truth is, no holiday is ever going to be the same for them, for any of us.

Add to that, the absence of a significant other in my life to warm my nights, and the holiday season, if left unattended,

could have slipped into nevernever land. But having grandchildren to share Christmas with has lightened the sadness and brought magic back to me.

The holiday sleepover visit and our activities were like a shot of holiday pixie dust.

We baked holiday cookies and watched "A Christmas Story." We drank hot chocolate and ate the cookies on my best Cape Cod mugs and plates, glassware I hadn't used in years. It was my way of telling him he was special and so was this night for me, maybe for both of us. You see, he's 10 years old now and I don't know how much longer sleeping over at Grandma's will be a cool, fun thing to do, so this year I had to make the most of our time together.

Snuggled up on my sofa beneath a blanket, we read "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" together, and the holiday that had always meant so much to me took on meaning again. It took me back to a time when my own children's belief ushered in the holiday season. It is, however, one of those double-edged swords that reminds you of where you actually are on life's journey - like this tiny voice whispering, "You do remember you're his grandmother, not his mother, right?"

Watching both my grandson and my much younger granddaughter, and observing their belief in that which cannot be seen, brought home everything to me.

I believe there really is "no place like home for the holidays," just like the song says. The warmth of family and friends offers us a sense of belonging somewhere special. But for magic, look to a child to provide it.

For the light of the spirit of Christmas can truly be seen in the innocence of a child's belief, one that has not yet been tarnished by life's ups and downs.

And that light, when recognized by an adult longing to see it, is dazzling, scintillating and absolutely spectacular.

Clare Marie Celano is a staff writer for Greater Media Newspapers. She can be reached at ccelano@gmnews.com.