A Christmas Conversation

“What do you want for Christmas?” I asked my soul.

No response.

“No, really, it’s Christmas Eve. You need to tell me what you want.”

Joy to the world. Ho, ho, ho, she muttered, without lifting her eyes from her book.

“Look,” I said. “I brought you some eggnog.”

Her eyes lifted. Does it have brandy?

“And whipped cream,” I assured her. She took it, but said nothing. “Come on,” I urged, “what do you want for Christmas?”

I want the police to stop killing unarmed people. I want domestic and foreign terrorists to stop killing people. Really, I just want all of everybody to stop killing people.

“Yeah, sweetie, I know. But I don’t think we can get that in time for Christmas. I did mention it’s tomorrow, didn’t I?”

Yeah. Right. She looked up. Can we have singing? Carols, but not just carols, and only the good ones.

“Sure we can. We can sing all four verses of ‘In the Bleak Midwinter’ if you want to.”

My soul smiled, just a little. “What else?” I asked.

Well, can we have little lights in the darkness?

“Um, the dog ate the ones that were on the tree, but I think we can make it happen.”

What about a star? Do we get a star?

“Honey, we have stars by the billions. Literally, billions.”

What about a baby? Can we have a baby?

She saw my look of alarm. I don’t mean we should actually have a baby. I mean, like, how babies are new and squishy and when they smile at you love is the only thing they know about. Can we have that?

“I’ll see what I can do.” Now she was starting to get on a roll.

And animals. The animals in the stable were always my favorite part of the story. Can we have animals adoring?

“Babe, we have three dogs. They’re like Olympic champions at adoring.”

Could we have three kings?

“What would you do with three kings? Do you even like kings?”

I don’t know. Maybe Justin Trudeau could drop by?

“Keep trying.”

Right. What about snow? I’m dreaming of a white Christmas…

“OK, get a grip. We live in California. No snow.”

Spoil sport. I guess we don’t have to have snow. But there has to be love. You can’t have Christmas without love.

“I will promise you that one. There will be love. Maybe not the kind that you were assuming. But that’s what the Christmas story is about, right? That love comes in ways and places that weren’t what anyone would exactly have anticipated?”

You mean like all that adoring in the stable?

Yeah, that. And the crazy idea that Love Itself could be with us in human form, as vulnerable as a baby. We could have that. If you wanted.

Yeah, said my soul, I think I do want that. And you know what else?

“What?”

A little more eggnog. And don’t be too stingy with the brandy.