Readers Who Write

As a child growing up in Montreal, the flavor of the holiday season was magical.

Beginning with the first snows arriving in October, the ground cover was established. Some years you wouldn’t see your lawn again until the spring thaw in March. Driving up and down the streets of my neighborhood once the sun dropped down below the horizon, you couldn’t help being engulfed by the warmth of the season. Homes were tastefully illuminated with Christmas lights, framed by a sea of freshly fallen snow.

More often than not, I would find myself parking somewhere, anywhere, just to spend a little time walking around the block, trying to take it all in. It’s amazing how warm one can feel, inside and out, during the coldest of nights, while basking in the warmth of the seasonal glow. This was my home, my happy place. This is where — during this special time of year — “everybody” was my friend.

As I grew from boy to man, I experienced life on an Ontario farm and life by the sea in Victoria, British Columbia. That old friend, the Spirit of Christmas, followed me no matter where I called home. Even when I turned southward, to establish a new life in San Diego, Calif., Old Faithful (my holiday spirit) stayed with me embracing me with love and warmth; obviously the Southern California sun helped with the warmth.

We weren’t done yet. There would be more moves in our future. Next stop, Tucson, Arizona. Apparently the Christmas Spirit loves warm, dry air, rattle snakes and cowboys too. Our desert home was a joy to decorate. The outside Christmas lights looked stunning outlining a 10 foot, multi armed Saguaro cactus and our burnt adobe home glowed with welcoming appeal.

One Christmas, Pastor Greg Levine, from NewLife Bible Fellowship, our Tucson church family, called me and asked if he and a few friends could stop by and sing some Christmas carols for Kerry’s mom.

This was her first Christmas without her husband, Red. He had passed only a few months earlier. I replied to his request with excitement, “Absolutely!”

Within 10 minutes a parade of cars invaded our circular driveway, overflowing down the street. They started singing as they approached our home and continued as they entered the sitting room where Kerry’s mom was r

esting.

The room was filled with over 30 carolers. I stood back and watched, and smiled, and wiped the tears as they began to flow.

Yes indeed, I can say with affirmation, the Holiday Spirit is in you, anywhere you choose to be, as long as you let it touch your heart. Once it does, it will never let go.

My question is: Why does it have to be seasonal? Why can’t we all just get along?

Here is the irony. We moved from Tucson to Jacksonville almost 10 years ago and the one thing that stands out for me about our new (and final) home is the community, especially during the holidays. Carolers roam downtown streets as visitors from near and far try to take it all in.

We especially enjoy the free hot apple cider and freshly popped popcorn and of course, the lighting of the City Hall living Christmas tree.

Unlike the Montreal streets of my youth, where a white Christmas is pretty much a guarantee, Jacksonville has that one thing that makes up for its lack of accumulated snow — Christmas Spirit — and it shines like a beacon. That’s my Jacksonville, my home, my Snow Globe community.

SEND US YOUR COPY So you say you want to write? Go for it. Send us 500 or so words of scintillating copy. Make it funny. Make it poignant. Make it count. Make it any way you want. Just don’t cuss. Don’t be boring. And have a point. If we like it, we’ll run it. Email submissions to community@rv-times.com. Put “Readers Who Write” in the subject line, and tell us the city where you live.

So you say you want to write?

Go for it.

Send us 500 or so words of scintillating copy. Make it funny. Make it poignant. Make it count. Make it any way you want.

Just don’t cuss. Don’t be boring. And have a point.

If we like it, we’ll run it.

Email submissions to community@rv-times.com. Put “Readers Who Write” in the subject line, and tell us the city where you live.