Sunday Evening

We put the Christmas tree up last night.

After being shoved in stores by overly aggressive shoppers, picking out a tree to fit the living room, tying it to the roof of my car, and then heading to the grocery store where manners and courtesy die at the entrance of automatic doors, and after waiting in line behind a woman at the cash register, whose only purpose was to argue about the price of almost every item she paid for, we finally made it home to decorate the house

I will admit the tension was high. After an almost 70 hour work week, and my sinking faith in humanity due to rude people shopping for the most giving time of year, I fell into the grumpiness of an old man…..

I did not grow up with Christmas trees.
I grew up with a Menorah. Instead of candy canes, I had dreidels, and of course, we had Chanukah gelt.
Gelt was chocolate coins covered in gold wrapping. However, my memories of gelt in my less-Jewish town are the stereotypical jokes about Jews, money, and being cheap.

This does not explain there were no other Jewish families in my neighborhood. There were…
But in my small group of knucklehead friends, there were only two others that shared my same background.

Now that I am older, I have expanded my faith, and I do not limit myself to any specific religion.
Religion seems to cause as much trouble as politics, and frequently, the two seem to intertwine and further complicate what should be simple.

After my grumpiness and complaining, I was able to set the tree in its stand. I wrapped the branches with strings of lights, then tinsel, and then we placed the ornaments on the tree.
I watched the first real snowfall cover the front yard in a layer of white. And by sunset, the Christmas lights were all lit. The socks were all hung, and all the boxes with our holiday decorations were all emptied.

I never had this as a kid. But I have it now.

Merry Christmas, folks

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