I was often asked as a child what Christmas means to me. This question was usually presented by a teacher in the Catholic school I attended and I was to write about how good it was that a virgin gave birth to the savior of souls. Still as much as they tried I couldn't help but have my mind occupied about how Santa rocked as he was bringing me new Atari games.
As I grow older and the myths of my youth disappear I look back on Christmas past and ponder what it still means to me. At the risk of sounding incredibly corny the holiday means time with my loved ones. I was a very lucky child to be brought into a family who always viewed me as their own blood. As part of that upbringing they always provided me with a good holiday, well when my sister was screaming about how she wanted to open presents before Christmas Eve dinner. Still I'm eternally grateful for all those pleasant memories of midnight mass, a good dinner, and playing with new toys with my cousins.
Tis the season of yuletide greetings and I extend them to those in the blogsphere.
"It is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at Christmas, when its mighty Founder was a child himself." - Charles Dickens