“That’s Christmas”

. . . . What I learned — and what I won’t tell my kids, because I don’t want them to think anything could be better than Christmas morning — is that, as the years pass, Christmas expands and gets better.

It stops being a singular event. It stops being just the morning and the heart-fluttering excitement that follows. It becomes a series of moments before, during and after Dec. 25 that make you stop and think: “That — that right there — is Christmas.”

There’s the moment in church when you’re kneeling before something far bigger than yourself and the priest shakes you from your busyness and material motivations and reminds you what the season is really about. And you feel good, like a weight has been lifted, if only temporarily.

That’s Christmas.

And the moment when you hear a holiday song you forgot existed and it takes you right back to when you were a kid and heard it for the first time and couldn’t get it out of your head.

That’s Christmas.

You write a column — because you’re an adult now and have a job — and tell people about a charity that needs help. And the next day you find that people helped — a lot — and you get pictures emailed to you of people volunteering at the charity and you believe, without a doubt, that there’s good in the world.

That’s Christmas.

You look out the front window into the cold and snow and see that a neighbor has shoveled your walk, and you get to stay inside and be warm.

That, no matter the time of year, is Christmas.

The moment when you slow the car down and take in a house lit up with colorful Christmas lights and wacky inflatable creatures that, had you seen them when you were a kid, would’ve made your head explode with excitement. And you smile, like the kid version of you would have done.

That’s Christmas.

[He goes on in this vein.  Keep reading. . .]