Lost in the Ivy

As every Who down in Whoville, the tall and the small, were singing without any presents at all…

The lad, who had sat still for twenty minutes now, turned to his dad with a furl in his brow.

“Dad,” the lad said, and then paused for a second or two, and you could almost see that thought as it grew and it grew.

Then that bubble popped smack dab in papa's lap, when all he wanted was to go down for a long winter's nap.

The question was so simple and so sweet, it could only come from the mouth of a lad who'd not yet grown to even four feet.

"What is the spirit of Christmas?" he wanted to know. He wanted to know, and he wouldn't let go.

Well, papa, at first, he squirmed just a bit, as he struggled to find an answer that would fit.

One need look no further, when in a pinch, than to that re-sized heart on that old Mr. Grinch.

"It's a feeling," he said, "that comes from deep down inside," and his chest swelled just a little with pride.

But the boy was not done – no, no, not just yet. There was something he still didn't quite get.

"Is it singing?" he asked, looking to pop, who by now wanted nothing more than this interrogation to stop.

No, it's not, not exactly, pop thought. But how do you explain it all to a tot? Well, you do not.

Yes, the spirit of Christmas goes much deeper than tinsel and toys. But is that so for little girls or little boys?

We, the grown-ups who pass down these holiday tales must never forget that Christmas means more than cash-register sales.

Our wish lists should be small, because Christmas, a time of giving, isn’t about us, no, not at all.

It’s best to give to that bell-ringer volunteer, and to leave the rest to that jolly old elf who guides the sleigh pulled by eight tiny reindeer.

That child will find the true spirit of Christmas some day. For now, it’s okay to just let him believe that Santa will soon be on his way.