By Linda Kelly (*with a little help from Clement C. Moore)
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
Except for me, of course, still racing around, finishing up last minute chores.
I was proud of myself for trimming the Christmas card list from 77 to 53 this year; the deleted names were of people we hadn’t heard from in years. But, unfortunately, 12 of the expunged offenders sent cards this year! Darn!
So now, although I was exhausted, I felt compelled to reciprocate and address a dozen cards, getting them to the corner mail box before midnight, so I could technically not be accused of being late.
Not me!
Truth is, I had to stay up anyway as the turkey was not quite thawed; it was a 35-pounder (we were having 28 guests for Christmas dinner) so I HAD to stuff it that night to get it into the oven by dawn the next morning.
Additionally, I had yet to finish my self-mandated tradition of making special home-made personalized ribbons with embossed gift tags for each of the 40 hand-crafted presents under the tree.
When out on the lawn I heard such a clatter,
I sprang from (my chair) to see what was the matter!
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound!
Had I fallen asleep!? Was I dreaming!
“Ho, ho, ho!” laughed the jolly old elf as he brushed off his red velvet coat and waddled toward me, shaking his finger as he approached.
“I’m glad I caught you, Linda, you’ve been on the naughty list this year and I was hoping I could talk with you!”
My befuddlement quickly changed to anger.
“What!?” I blurted out, “Me, naughty!?”
“Well,” Santa slowly replied, “you must admit you’ve lost the Christmas Spirit this year.”
“Outrageous!” I protested. “No one has more Christmas spirit than I have!”
“Exactly,” Santa gently admonished, “you have the spirit, small ‘s,’ but I’m referring to the Spirit, capital ‘s.’
“But I send religious themed cards, I donate to and volunteer for several Christmas charities, I attend Mass
. . .”
“Yes,” Santa scolded, “but you’re so tired from all your projects that you fall asleep during Mass.” (Hmm . . . Santa’s real name is SAINT Nicholas, so he must know more about these spiritual matters than I do!)
“And as for sending religious cards, what good does that do if you keep track and only send good wishes to those who have sent them to you? You could be withholding love and kindness from old friends who need it the most this year. Maybe they are ill or struggling with some other hardship?
“And those elaborate ribbons and tags: Admit it, they are more about your ego and your pride than they are about pleasing the recipients!”
He had me there, but before I could say anything else, he piled on, “And think of all the time and money and energy you waste driving 200 miles round trip to buy special gourmet flour from an organic wheat farm mill for your cookies.
“But you love my cookies!” I cried.
“Well, yes, they are good, but they aren’t any better than the Keebler Fudge Stripes your neighbors leave out for me,” he said.
“That’s not fair!” I whined. “You’re biased because those cookies are made by elves!”
At that point, Santa sadly shook his head and heaving a heavy sigh he
. . . went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
I raced over to my stocking, terrified of what I’d find inside, but there was no coal.
Instead, I found a brochure for a local 12-step program, Perfectionists Anonymous.
I’ve been attending PA meetings ever since.
Dear Readers, in case some of you are fact-checking, I will confess that for the first time ever I’ve succumbed to the use of hyperbole here and there in this column, but only because I wanted to make sure my message was clear — we must all avoid the perils of pursuing perfectionism lest we trade Spirit for spirit.
But there’s a second part to my message which I’d like to share with you now:
. . . I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight —
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
Linda E. Kelly is a member of Blessed Sacrament Parish in Madison.