Be the Magic

I don’t know about you, but I LOVE the holiday season. I loved it growing up. Decorating the tree, going to church, getting together with all of my aunts, uncles, and cousins. And the music! Ah, the music. It was all so beautiful. Wonderful. Magical.

But some time ago, I can’t remember when I lost that love for it. I lost the joy and magic and it sucked. And it’s quite likely it didn’t just suck for me, but for those around me too. A pity, really. I truly hope my children only have loving and fun memories of the season. I think it was the realization that there wouldn’t be any big family get-togethers anymore that started me on the road of disinterest, or indifference. And then, as the kids got older, they were less interested and I let it affect my attitude also. But I digress…

The holiday season has always held a special place in my heart, though those years when it felt like the magic had slipped away were challenging. Life has a way of overshadowing  even the brightest traditions. The stresses of daily life, the weight of responsibilities, and even my own expectations sometimes left me feeling like the holidays were just another item on a long to-do list. I’m sure some of you can relate. The topic of moms overworking for their families' holidays is not a new one. There are even movies about it. 

I missed the way the season felt when I was younger - its warmth, its light, its inexplicable ability to make the world feel softer, brighter. For a long time, I couldn’t pinpoint what had changed, why it felt different. Then, over the years, I started to see the answer: the magic of Christmas doesn’t simply arrive. It’s something we create, something we nurture, something we have to choose to bring into the world.

This realization didn’t come to me in a flash. It was a lesson gently taught to me by someone who understands the power of joy - my mom.

A few years ago, I visited her just after Christmas. It was one of those quiet, reflective days when the hustle of the holiday had passed, leaving behind a calm stillness. She asked if I could help her take down the Christmas tree and pack away the decorations, and of course, I said yes. As we worked, she mentioned that she usually decorates her house alone.

That surprised me. My mom’s home was always so beautifully festive during the holidays. The tree twinkled with lights, every ornament seemed thoughtfully placed, and the whole house carried the unmistakable coziness of Christmas. I’d always assumed she had help, but no - she did it all herself.

So, I asked her, “If it’s so much work, why do you do it?” Her answer was simple but profound: Because it brings me joy.

Those words stuck with me. Yes, decorating the tree or transforming the house for the holidays takes effort. Yes, it’s work. But it’s work worth doing because of the joy it brings - not just to others, but to yourself. That conversation with my mom helped me see the holidays in a new light. It’s not about the perfection of the decorations or the grandness of the gestures. It’s about finding the things that make you happy and protecting that happiness from ever being overshadowed by stress or other people’s opinions.

Since then, I’ve made the conscious effort to create the magic I want to experience, to be an active participant in the joy of the season. This year, that effort has taken the form of a new project: making homemade decorations, including crafting wooden Christmas decorations for my front yard.

I started with large pieces of wood and carefully cut them into shapes of trees and deer. The cutting itself was a learning process - measuring, drawing, and finding just the right balance of detail and simplicity. Once the shapes were ready, I painted them a crisp, clean white. Soon, I’ll add a final touch, white Christmas lights along the back edges to make them glow softly in the night.

What I hope it will look like when I’m done.

It’s been a labor of love. I’ve spent hours in the basement, covered in sawdust, but those hours have been filled with purpose. I can already imagine the finished display: a serene, glowing winter wonderland in my front yard, spreading a little light to anyone who passes by.

In creating these decorations, I’ve found that the magic of Christmas isn’t just in the final result - it’s in the making. It’s in the quiet satisfaction of seeing your vision come to life, in the excitement of knowing you’re contributing to the beauty of the season.

This project has also reminded me of the lessons my mom shared with me that day. Joy doesn’t always come easily. Sometimes, it takes effort. But if something brings you happiness - if it lights up your heart the way Christmas lights brighten a dark December night - then it’s worth every moment of work.

This holiday season, I encourage you to think about what brings you joy. Maybe it’s a project like mine, or maybe it’s baking cookies, playing music, or spending time with people you love. Whatever it is, make time for it. Give it your energy and attention, and protect it from anything that might dull its glow.

As my mom taught me, the magic of Christmas isn’t something we wait for - it’s something we create. And when we do, the joy we feel can ripple outward, lighting up not just our own hearts but the hearts of those around us. Life is already hard enough.

So this year, let’s all be the magic we want to experience. Let’s choose joy, share light, and create memories that will warm us long after the season is over.

For now, Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, Happy Festivus, Joyous Kwanzaa, Happy Holidays, or whatever you celebrate, honor, or wish to be told at this time of year.

Cheers!

Ⓒ November 2024. Beki Lantos. All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form by any means without prior written permission of the author.