And We're Off!

Now that turkey has been eaten 'til we're sick of it, and our wallets are lighter after "Black Friday"'s forays in the wee hours, many of us have moved on -- officially -- to that holiday of all holidays: Christmas. Riding around this weekend, I saw that many houses are lit with pretty colored and white light creations. I used to begin my exterior light decorating on Black Friday instead of emptying my wallet. This year, I had no energy for any of that. Today, my brother and his wife are coming over for lunch. And, guess what we're having? That's right: more turkey!

Oh, I have begun to pull out bins of Christmas decorations, although I admit I haven't had the energy yet to go to the storeroom and make my way to its back corner where the main stash is kept. I have collected bins and bins of the stuff. Decorations so festive they'll make your teeth ache. I know I'll get there, but I just find myself kicking and dragging me there this year; ever so slowly. I'm just tired, and having trouble wrapping my mind around Christmas festivities.

I have always loved Christmas. Since I was a little girl, I loved nothing better than decorating the tree with glass balls, trying hard  not to drop them or lose them when the metal caps holding the loops pulled out. We even had those lights that bubbled like lava lamps from the '60's, except they were from the '50's. We threw heaps of silver tinsel all over the tree until it shimmered, and then I looked up and saw the golden star or angel sitting on top. How magical it all was.

In my early twenties, I created, and truly became, Mrs. Claus. I worked for a company in Needham, Massachusetts: Ludlow Corporation. One of my co-workers wrote a Christmas play and solicited several of us to participate. I have always loved acting, and secretly wanted to be on stage one day, so I lept at the chance to try my hand. After weeks of rehearsals, the big day came. The auditorium was filled to overflowing with employees and their families. Little children sat around our makeshift stage on the floor, mesmerized as we brought her story to life. I was Mrs. Claus, and I loved it. The costume I chose was very traditional: long red velvet dress, trimmed in white; white apron and old-fashioned cap on my grey old-lady hair and "granny" glasses. She was a big hit.

At thirty, I brought her back to life when I created the "Childrens' Christmas" (and soon to be more politically correct: "Holiday") parties at the Center for Astrophysics (CfA), where I began my twenty-five year career as a secretary. I actually worked for Smithsonian Institution Astrophysical Observatory (SAO), and retired from there as a Telecommunications Specialist. Lots happened in between to get me from there to here, but that is for another story.

The first year of my employ at SAO, I wanted to meet people and make friends, so I joined the "Social Club". We sponsored lots of fun events to try and get Ph.D. "rocket scientists" out of their offices and their heads. There was an annual Christmas party, but nothing just for children. So I created the first childrens' party. The CfA has a collaborative relationship with the Boston Museum of Science Planetarium. So, I made a call and met with the director. He was very nice, and let me use their Christmas show script for my party. And, they lent me a myriad of slides about the Christmas Star and many other images of the season.

I also established a relationship with Broadway Costume store in Boston, and they created the first Mrs. Claus costume to my specifications, just for me. They kept it for me every year, and the Social Club picked up the tab for everything. I had a famous scientist (John Huchra, now deceased) play Christmas LPs during the party from the balcony of "Phillips Auditorium", and got several friends to dress up as Elves to help me. We rehearsed a song to sing for everyone: John Denver and The Muppets, "It's In Everyone Of Us", and I sang harmony. There were craft tables for all ages where the children made ornaments out of popcycle sticks and decorated pictures with glue, glitter, cotton balls and scraps of fabric, buttons and stuff I bought by the pound at the Boston Childrens' Museum. Everyone was encouraged to bring a gift with the child's name on it, and a volunteer played Santa to have those children sit on his lap.

My Christmas Star "talk" was a huge hit. Another scientist friend, Jim Moran, who I worked with at the time, commented to me the next day that, "I missed my calling". "You had a hundred-plus adults and children of all ages enthralled the entire time." Needless to say, I was thrilled. And, Mrs. Claus appeared every year.

After about six years, I had trouble finding someone to play Santa, and once that happened, I declared that Mrs. Claus was "retired". It was time to focus on my career anyway and nobody was taking me seriously. I was the party person, and I was Mrs. Claus. I can't tell you how many very serious, high-level scientists I disappointed when Mrs. Claus stopped showing up at the holiday parties. Each one would approach me, and in their smallest-child voice, would ask, "Is Mrs. Claus coming this year?" I would have to say, "No, I'm really sorry. She retired." They would frown miserably and walk away. It was really pathetic. Mrs. Claus was "real" to them.

See? The little child in us never dies. (S)he lives forever inside our hearts and keeps us young no matter how many years we accumulate. I have been weighted down by Life events recently, and I must get that child back. I know she's in there, but I'm having trouble getting her to come out and play right now. I am confident that once I open that first bin full of Christmas decorations, she will perk up and my energy will lighten. I just have to open that first bin. Maybe I should get help with that today.

Enjoy the coming ride into the end-of-year holiday season. It is a magical one; full of light, music and joy. Let it fill you up, as I will, and lift your hearts to new heights as we begin the new year. Happy, happy, everyone.