Christmas makes me feel like two different men, one is Scrooge, the other Tiny Tim

The weather finally cooperated and it's become gloriously white and cold, though it's a Christmas illusion, since rain is forecast for Christmas Day. But for now, it doesn't get better than the fresh powdery snow thickly draping everything. The crisp air is invigorating. The darkest day of the year is past and things will now begin their slow uptick until green begins to stir again... Today we bought our tree from one of the local vendors and carried it back home. (A trip that's maybe just under a kilometer.) Owen sat in the sled with a small spruce limb, Matilda carried her own tree she'd bought with her own 5€, Melina pulled the sled, and I carried the family tree. The gray sidewalks were replaced by narrow white pathways; the forest was nearly mystical with white limbed spruces overhanging the path. I couldn't help thinking how a car would have spoiled the whole thing with practicality. As I set the tree up in our living room, Owen ran up to the tree and shouted over and over, "hauska, hauska!" ("Fun, fun!")

These Christmas events make me happy, they're the ones I hope my children take with them into their futures. Even cleaning the house today in preparation for the big dinner tomorrow was enjoyable, since I knew it was the last cleaning before the celebration. I keep imagining the ham, the fish, the food in abundance that awaits us tomorrow. (True, we still need to make it, but I look forward to that as well.) Already the scents of Christmas fill our apartment. Even as I type, the thawing tree releases its fresh smell. On the table next to the computer a beautiful gingerbread house my Mom and Matilda made has been smelling delicious for a week now. It's covered with candy and I keep craving gingerbread as I sit here working. (Or even writing this.)

I have off work until January 7th, and I need the rest. I am glad. In Finland the concept of "Joulu rauha" (Christmas Peace) is deeply ingrained. Everyone looks forward to making time for family and friends (depending on the day), and just enjoying having no obligations and not having to rush around. How different that is from the scene I unwillingly threw myself into yesterday. After a big snow and suddenly plunging temperatures threw the railways into chaos, I managed to get from our new office to downtown in an hour, whereas it normally takes ten minutes. So already grumpy I thought I'd quickly buy Melina's present. Unfortunately, the seething crowds in the Forum didn't bring Christmas cheer to mind. How stupid that Christmas can be reduced to spending money you don't have, on things you don't really need. (After all, making presents of what you need is pretty boring. "Here honey, I bought you next week's groceries!!!") Granted, the amount you don't have to spend varies, and perhaps it's more accurate to say money that would be used for different things, but surely I make myself clear. My "bah-humbug" juices flowed swift and strong. I shook my head at the lines of people, the torrents of shoppers washing from store to store. I couldn't take part in it. I couldn't pay the outrageous price for a little stripped Marimekko makeup bag Melina had told me she wanted. I stepped out of the line, put the bag back, and made a quick retreat for the bus stop. But I wasn't through. Knowing Melina would be a very unhappy elf come Christmas with no present, I rallied myself for another assault, this time into Sokos.

In no time flat, the products on the shelves became a blur, displays were obstacles in the writhing crowd. I knew I didn't want to buy something practical like household goods, cookbooks, etc., but I also couldn't bring myself to throw away money on something that she'd rarely use. Oh, the things you can buy! Oh, the money you can spend! I faltered once again, and walked a beaten man to the bus stop. There was nothing for it. Clothes, shoes, lingerie, etc., those were the things I thought would be best, but I knew better than to trust my own judgment as to style and pattern, let alone size. I came home empty handed, and even as I type here I fret that the trinkets I've bought won't be enough to make my girl smile. Though I've promised we'll go and look together for those things I couldn't choose alone. (Talk about anti-climax!)

Perhaps I'd like shopping better if I knew how to buy gifts. I've meet people who have a real talent for gift-giving. They seem to know exactly what people want and know how to get them. I wish I had a little of that in me.

In the end, I know the commercial stuff is what you make of it. I know it can get out of hand, but it shouldn't be confused with the celebration and excitement of the holiday. I, for one, am just glad to celebrate the passing of the year; to mark with hope and joy the year's turning, the lightening; to add my little light into the winter darkness, so that together we can make the long, cold nights something enjoyable.