“Christmas won’t be Christmas
without any presents,”
grumbled Jo, lying on the rug.
-Louisa May Alcott,
Little Women
Is this post grumbling about presents- or the lack thereof?
No! Today I am like little Beth, speaking “contentedly from her corner”.
Today the holiday season begins in earnest!
I took a class once that spent quite a bit of time on the ideal of “ritual”. A ritual, we concluded, was an actual transport to a sacred time and space. This is what makes this time of year so special; the repetition of these actions generates its own magic, and brings us back to a time that is simpler and sacred.
To me, December is all about tradition and ritual, a way of returning my weary soul to a state of exuberance and grace.
As I share in these seasonal rituals with my children, we are all young and happy together; their young souls and my young soul mingle and touch. When they grow to be adults and share in these rituals with their future children, their own tired and weary souls will re-alight and be reinvogorated in this space.
And their children’s souls will keep company with my own, whether my self remains on this earth or no.
What rituals am I speaking of? Well, for starters, I like to stretch the magic and excitement of the season for as long as possible.
So, every morning a new decoration goes up. And only one.
Today, it was the felt Advent calendar. The numbers have little magnets sewn under them, and the numbered ornaments have magnets in them as well. This is its fifth Christmas, I believe. Every year, the kids forget it exists. And every year I bring it out to chimes of, “Hey, I remember that!”
Secondly, every evening I bring out a Christmas story which I read aloud (to Cassie as the boys hover nearby and pretend not to listen), while we all sip hot chocolate after dinner. I used to wrap these separately, a “gift” a day, but stopped doing that last year because of the paper waste. Now, I wrap each night’s book up in a big bow and leave it on the dining room table for the kids to find.
Tonight’s story: Winter’s Tale: An Original Pop-up Journey
The last ritual is one that I have been carrying on silently since I was ten, and that is a yearly rereading of Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women 
It’s a long book, and used to serve as a way to fill all those December hours, to help time along so Christmas would hurry up and arrive already.
By this, the 22nd reading, however, I have much of the book by heart, and triptrap along at a frolicking pace.
The simple folk and gentle story transport me to a time of innocence and charity, to be sure, but those first words- “Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents“- well, those transport me into the soul of a ten year old girl.
The holidays just haven’t started for me until Jo grumbles on that rug.
What officially begins the holidays for you?
Do you have any rituals you carry on from your childhood?
I like that idea, re-reading a favorite book every year at the same time. I don't like Christmas much (too commercialized for me), and I really REALLY don't like presents for Christmas. They're too often an obligation instead of something you saw and thought someone might like. But that ritual idea, it's going to hover in my mind for a while…
I'm a big fan of rereading; I love how different books hold different meanings as we grow older. I wish I still had the same copy of Little Women I had as a kid, see my name scrawled in 10 year old penmanship. Never let someone else sort through your books!